ANTE 



liELOlSE DURANT ROSE 






GopightN" lJ_Xi_ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr. 




From the commemorative portrait bust by Paolo S. Abbate. 

(Copyright) 



DANTE 



A DRAMATIC POEM BY 



Heloise Durant Rose 

Member of the Dante Society^ Cambridge^ Massachusetts 
Founder of the Dante League oj America 



FOURTH EDITION REVISED 



NEW YORK 

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS 

AMERICAN BRANCH : 35 WEST 32ND STREET 
LONDON, TORONTO, MELBOURNE, AND BOMBAY 

1921 

All Rights Reserved 






Copyright, 1910, 
BY Heloise Durant Rose 



Copyright, 1921, 
BY Oxford University Press 

AMERICAN BRANCH 



AUG 2/ i'j2l 
©CU624420 



FOREWORD TO THE FOURTH 
EDITION 

Some years ago a copy of this play came to 
me for criticism. I began to read it with a cer- 
tain misgiving — so very many plays in many 
languages had been written around the same 
subject and so very few of them had been suc- 
cessful from both a dramatic and a literary 
point of view. The difficulty is perfectly obvi- 
ous: most of the writers had been lovers of 
Dante first and dramatists after, and in an at- 
tempt to give truthful expression to the life of 
the man the absolute requirements of the thea- 
tre had been quite ignored. There is no 
greater human tragedy than that connoted by 
the life of the Florentine and yet the known ele- 
ments in it, while lending themselves readily to 
literary, moulding, have usually defied the art 
of the dramatist who would also be a trust- 
worthy biographer. 

I found Mrs. Rose's play to be good litera- 
ture, good history, and at the same time it 
seemed to possess those elements requisite for 
a good acting play. This last she had achieved 
iii 



Foreword 



without any serious departure from known 
facts, or without any strained attempt to turn 
purely poetic cHmaxes into theatric. 

Moreover, it gave one a picture of the times 
in those phases which are most pleasing to re- 
member, most profitable to contemplate, for 
those other phases — the dirt and filth in which 
the people lived and in the terms of which some 
of them thought, acted, and wrote, the cheap- 
ness of human life, the hideous cruelty, the in- 
sensibility to physical pain and deformity, the 
lack of pity for the afflicted, the grotesque and 
often immodest humor — left little mark on his- 
tory and to reproduce them would not only have 
detracted from what was wholesome and beau- 
tiful but would have been an offense to modern 
taste. 

Thus the play in the succeeding pages may 
be said to be truthful without being realistic. 
It is idealistic in the sense that it invites the 
imagination to grasp an illusion of the truth, if 
not the truth itself. 

What I wrote of the play then, I may repeat 
with some emphasis now: 

*'Mrs. Rose's play shows almost in every line 
a thorough knowledge of Dante's career and 
works, and of the times in which he lived. It 



Foreword 



is a play that really imparts information and 
it is a marvel that this information is so ar- 
ranged, and emphasized as to make extremely 
interesting reading. 

"Quite plausible if not always confirmed by 
history is — the relations between the poet and 
Gemma Donati, the scenes of political and fam- 
ily feuds, and the poet's exile, and the circum- 
stances in which he wrote the 'Commedia,' his 
uncompromising attitude^' toward Florence, and 
his yearning for a United Italy under the impe- 
rial rule in which the Church should be confined 
to its spiritual jurisdiction. 

"As an introduction to the study of Dante 
for English readers, I should urgently suggest 
a perusal of Mrs. Rose's dramatic poem. It 
gives one more of the atmosphere of Florence 
in the trecento than any academic introduction 
wuth which I am acquainted. It impresses upon 
the mind by scene and even words, a host of 
episodes and allusions which will be pleasurely 
recognized in a further study of Dante and his 
works." 

For, not only has a fuller knowledge of the 
subject aroused in me no desire to qualify the 
foregoing, but, in this year of the six hundredth 
anniversary of the poet's death, there is natu- 
rally an unusual desire to know him and his 
works, and something about the times in which 
he lived. For this reason and for those who 



Foreword 



have neither the time nor the inclination to 
study academic literature on the subject the 
play before us presents an attractive and easily 
acquired background 

Walter Littlefield. 
April 12, 1921. 



TO HEiNRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 

As smallest urchin In the village school, 
To say some trying task, finds he must rise, 
Haunted by hope of a far distant prize, 
Fearing to fail, and so remain the fool, 
Knowing how rarely he has felt the rule, 
How oft the Master's smile, with looks defies 
The pupils' taunts, and seeks his teacher's eye 
To gain new confidence should courage cool, 
So I, the least on learning's noble list 
In life's rough school face bravely gaze of 

crowds, 
Nor mark when carping critics rudely twist 
My sense to naught, but stand erect and proud, 
If from thine eyes and lips encouragement 
And smile I glean. Master! I rest content. 



IN MEMORIAM 

When faint my soul with task yet incomplete, 
Who nursed kind hope save thee, and urged to 

dare 
When I dared not? In thine now vacant chair 
Thou satst, mild critic, dropping counsel sweet 
On her who loved and listened at thy feet. 
To-day I tread rhyme's way alone, nor care 
For praise nor blame, since thou'lt no longer 

share 
With me my poem's triumph or defeat. 
O, let thy guidance still my safeguard prove! 
As giant oak, wind-stricken to the ground, 
To all the thronging tuneful choir around 
Yields royal shelter, so of thy generous love 
That blossoms freshly o'er thy hallowed grave 
One tiny spray to nest my song I crave. 



CHARACTERS 

Dante Allighieri, the great Italian poet 

GuiDO Cavalcanti, the poet, a friend of Dante 

CoRSO DoNATi, a Florentine politician 

Gemma Donati, his sister {later Dante's wife) 

Falco Portinari, founder of first Florentine Hospital 

Beatrice Portinari, his daughter 

Beatrice Allighieri, Dante's daughter 

Jacopo Allighieri, Dante's Son 

Pietro Allighieri, Dante's Son 

Giotto Bondone, the painter, Dante's friend 

Can Grande Francesco Della Scala, Duke of Verona 

(Dante's friend) 
GuiDO NovELLO Di PoLENTA, of Ravefino 
GiovANNA D'Antiochia, Can Grande's wife 
Marco Nerli, friend of Dante 

GiovANNA (Primavera) — (becomes Cavalcanti' s wife) 
ViNCENZO Dal Colle, a Florentine politician 
Francesca Dal Colle, his daughter 
Uberto Dal Colle, his son (friend of Dante) 
Ding Brunini, a Florentine hon-vivant 

GuA, a servant 

Beppo, a servant of Dal Colle 

Jester 

Delegate, at Court of Can Grande 

Cardinal 

Priest 

Monks 

Also Pilgrims, Nobles, Travellers, Dancing Girls, Pages, 
Ass Driver, Boys, Peasants, etc. 



PROEM TO DANTE 

Thou mighty poet-king, with brows thrice 

crowned 
By genius, sorrow, love, who dared express 
Thy scathing thoughts aloud when bitterness 
Possessed thy soul; whom Florence once dis- 
owned, 
Denied to sing or live ; who now sits throned 
In every heart through Italy, no less 
Revered than loved ; who spied each dark recess 
And uncouth horror of abyss profound ! 
O, look not thou reprovingly on me 
For straining feeble wings toward eagle height, 
Wresting thy utterance, depicting thee 
With my poor pencil. Infants turn to light. 
And so my weakness seeks thy strength to 

touch. 
Dante!' though frail my art, my love is much. 



Act L Garden of Falco Porttnari^s Villa 

near Florence. 
Act II. Falco Portinari's house in Florence. 

Act III. In front of San Giovanni's Church 
in Florence, 

Act IV. Scene I. The Campo Santo near 

Florence. 
Scene II. Ducal Palace at Verona. 
Scene III. Palace of Guido No- 

vello di Polenta at Ravenna, 



DANTE 
ACT I 

Garden of Falco Portinari's Villa near Flor- 
ence. There are stone benches; yew hedges cut 
in stiff shapes; flowers in profusion — chiefly yel- 
low laburnum' and white and purple lilacs. 
View of the City of Florence in the distance. 

It is the May Festival {Calendi Maggio). 
Branches of yellow cytisus laburnum are brought 
in by the revellers. 

Gemma, Francesca and Giovanna are weav- 
ing wreaths. Gemma sits apart from the other 
two, 

Giovanna. [Calling.] 

Beatrice! 
Francesca. [Calling.] 

Beatrice ! 
Others. [Calling,] 

Bice ! Beatrice ! 
Giovanna. 

Where lingers our fair lady? 
A Youth. 

Dreaming of prize she will bestow to-day. 



12 Dante Act I 

Gemma. [Morosely.'] 

And why so sure that she^ll bestow the prize? 
Francesca. 

There's none so worthy to be chosen Queen. 
GlOVANNA. 

Dante! Dante! Durante Alllghieri! 
A Maiden. 

Why callest thou our poet ? He's not near. 

GlOVANNA. 

I called but as one conjures sph^Its, who 
Attend the coming of an angel. Dante 
Is magic word to conjure Beatrice. 
Francesca. 
Let us Invoke him, then — our poet Dante. 

[Gemma, who is sitting on the same bench 
with Francesca, makes a sullen move- 
ment widening the space between them.] 

[Enter Beatrice Portinari, walking 
along the balustrade at back of the stage, 
looking out in the direction of Florence. 
She is followed by her page. She leans 
over the balustrade of the terrace,] 

Beatrice:. 

Florence, the sun caresses thee as Jove 
Caressed fair Danae in a golden shower. 



Act I Dante 13 

Thy beauty glows, till eyes grow dazed with 

light. 
Like Queen thou art, so stately In thy 

strength, 
With silver Arno for thy scepter. Guard 
Thy rights, O royal city ! Guard thy people I 
Still keep us gay with joyous feasts of love. 
With dance and song, with gentle revelllngs. 
And let war's thunder roll beyond thy hills, 
Forgotten In the nearer notes of peace. 
Francesca. [Calling.] 

Beatrice! Bice! 
Others. [Calling.] 

Beatrice! 
Beatrice. [Turning.] 

Pray, spare my ears. Would I were deaf to- 
day! 
Francesca. 

So soon returned to earth? I saw thee 

caught 
In realm of fancy, — flown to such a height 
Methought one pair of lungs weak messen- 
gers 
To call thee back. 

[Beatrice sits on the stone bench, between 
Francesca and Gemma, Gemma rises 
spitefully,] 



14 Dante Act 1 

Beatrice. 

Thou seest Fm close to earth — 

Ready to celebrate Calendi Magglo. 
Gemma. 

And, being thy father's daughter, courtesy 

Accords thee pretty favors all this day; 

As hostess, we must greatly honor thee. 

GlOVANNA. 

There is no must in our allegiance, Gemma, 
And only blind folk fail to see she's fair, 
Or deaf folk fail to hear how sweet her voice. 
Francesca. 

A jealous heart oft makes one deaf and 
blind. 
[Enter Marco Nerli.] 

Marco. 

I greet the graces in their native bowers. 
Francesca. 

Say seasons. Thou, Marco, be our Winter, 

Thou, Vanna, Spring, and Beatrice Summer; 

The changing Autumn I — that suits me best.* 

Marco. [Seating himself by Francesca.] 
Winter comes next to Autumn. 



*Giovanna was nicknamed Primavera (Spring). See 
Vita Nuova. 



Act 1 Dante 



15 



Francesca. 

Turning e'er 
Her coldest side to him. 
GiovANNA. [Plucking flowers, and turning to 
Beatrice.] 
I'll weave a wreath to crown thee Queen of 

Love, 
Since Dante deems thee Queen of human 
hearts. 
Francesca. [Gathering flowers.] 

And lion-tamer shouldst thou, too, be called, 
For thou hast sway o'er Dante's soul. 
Among the learned is he not a lion? 
Beatrice. 
He's slave worth keeping for his faithfulness. 

GlOVANNA. 

And links by Bice forged are lightly worn. 
Beatrice's Page. 

Ah, that our Dante tarry not I I fain 

Would hear him sing of love and ladles fair. 
A Maiden. 

Thou art a froward page to prate of love. 
A Youth. 

And tread upon the heels of older men. 
Beatrice. [To the youth.] 

Much older, in faith — with not a hair on chin. 
[All laugh J] 



1 6 Dante Act I 

Page. 

Dante jeers not. He ever sighs, or sings 
Of youthful love — and pages do have hearts. 

Beatrice. 

Nice little ones, like their young mouths, to fill 
With sugar toys. Our Dante sings for men 
And Is a soldier as well as poet. 

Vanna. 

Wasting his life in shadowy dreams of bliss, 
Our poet's braver fighting men than women. 
[GiovANNA, Beatrice and Women con- 
verse apart.] 

Francesca. 

He learnt this truth: Bodice and skirt with 

youth 
Are fatal foes to fortitude of men 
And yet to fly a woman is disgrace. 

Marco. 

In which I'll not partake; so still sit here-. 
Braving the smiles I dread more heartily 
Than others' frowns ; for wicked Is thy wit 
Piercing through closest coat of mail, like 
love. 

Francesca. 
O, love, love, love! How smoothly does it 
oil 



Act I Dante 17 

The creaking wheels of this old lumbering 

world; 
Yet, oft like Fame, 'tis wasted on the heads 
It seeks to crown. A youth may burn his 

heart 
On altar raised unto some seeming goddess, 
Who, when well warmed, throws water on 

his flame. 
And lightly scatters to the restless winds 
The ashes of his faith; or gentle maid 
Despoils her soul's sweet treasury, and finds 
Her purity and peace stamped out beneath 
The iron heel of some base libertine; 
And men who could have left high-honored 

names 
As heirlooms to a future race, have spent 
Their talents, time and strength on some wild 

son 
Who grew to flout and hate his gray-haired 

sire. 
So love may prove a dancing wlll-o'-the-wisp 
To those who seek Its light In earth's vast 

marsh. 

Marco. 

Gladly I'll seek and track the elf, and win 
Fair bride thereby. 



1 8 Dante Act I 

Francesca. 

Wilt have a wife? I know 
A maid cut just thy pattern. 
Marco. 

Aye, and a painted piece of wax — a puppet — 
Francesca. 

Who talks and reasons well. 
Marco. 

What — both? From such 
Defend me, gentle Heaven ! Wives with 

their tongues 
Are bad; but wives with brain, who chatter 
too — 
Francesca. 

This maid would rather read than be a gossip. 
Marco. 

Far worse. A modest wench would waste no 

thoughts 
O'er love scenes. 
Francesca. 

Nay, more oft she'd con her missals 
Than Romaunt. 
Marco. 

Sure, such saintliness would swoon 
If I did swear. 
Francesca. 

Not so, — a maid of spirit. 



Act I Dante 19 

Marco. 

A shrew, I'll warrant thee. I'll none of her. 
Canst tell thy fancied fair to break her heart 
And rave that I her life have basely wrecked. 
Francesca. 

Wrecked, Marco? Nay, thou knowest not 

our hearts. 
What if we venture all our happiness 
Within the frail bark Love, and storms arise. 
And toss the skiff on barren shore — what 

then? 
Though love be stranded, 'tis not lost. We'd 

glean 
The wreck-strewn beach, shaping a raft from 

out 
The fragments of our parted bark; anon 
We'd launch forth bravely on the world's 

rough sea 
Our pilot virtues, born of stormy grief, 
Guiding us safely to our destined goal. 
A woman must be master of her love 
Or It will master her. But, Marco, hark! 
This maid will hate thee not, though like 

white wax 
Near fire, thine Image melts before her pride. 
Marco. 

And was this maid drawn by thy fantasy? 



20 Dante Act I 

Francesca. 

I saw her thus reflected once. 
Marco. 

Where? How? 
Francesca. 

Where — How? Indeed, In thy two eyes, my 
friend. 
[Francesca runs of.'] 
Marco. [Starting to follow.'] 

Cesca 1 
Giovanna. [Turning to him.] 

Nay, stay. I'll bring Francesca back. [Exit.] 
Marco. [To himself.] 

Meant Cesca then herself? And yet her 

words — 
She is a madcap — witch as well as sybil ! 
Beatrice. [Hearing hifu.] 

She's loving friend, with honest, purest soul, 
Whose wit, though keen, scarce wounds. 

Her joyous heart 
Basking in God's clear light e'er sunshine 

sheds 
On those who lie forgotten In the shade. 
Marco. 

Thy golden nature glints In praising hers. 



^Act I Dante 21 

Page. 
There comes Dal Colle with black-browed 

Corso ; 
But, alas, no Dante. 
Marco, 

They'll watch for him. 
And every sprig * he gathers must be paid 
Anon with posies of bad politics. 
Beatrice. 

Why do our elders spoil our pleasures? 

Youth 
Calls out for joy — not business — in fair May. 
[She turns away toward terrace.'] 
[Enter Youths and Maidens, with music. 
As the music stops, there are exclama- 
tions, and Dante, Guido and Fran- 
CESCA enter.] 
Hall to Dante! 

Hall to his twin poet CavalcantI ! 
Dante. 

Fair ladles all, I greet you thousandfold. 

[Crosses to Beatrice.] 
Madonna, let us wander in the grove 

* Sprig of cytisLis laburnum. 



22 Dante Act I 

Where the fair meaning of this blessed month 
Sinks in the soul, that all my garnered 

thoughts 
In one melodious whole may chant thy praise, 
When we to-day, in friendly rivalry, 
Each vaunt in song our gracious lady's 

charms. 

Beatrice. 
To-day thou must pay homage to fair Spring. 

Dante. 

Thou art my Spring; I'll tune my lyre to thee. 
A smile from thee sends swift blood from 

my heart. 
To bloom as tender fancies in my brain. 
Thy Court of Love holds revel all the year; 
The chastity of Winter's silent snows, 
The lusty red of Autumn's russet cheek, 
Bare-bosomed Summer's wantonness, alike 
With gentle Spring's soft green, invite all 

men 
To rhyme thy worth in one eternal strain. 

Gemma. [Standing near.] 

I'd weary of these forced comparisons — 
As sun, moon, stars, by turn to shine — con- 
ceits 
By singer's fancy framed. 



Act I Dante 23 

Dante. 

Keep thy scorn, Gemma, 
Till age steals from thy looks a poet's theme. 
Beatrice. 

And art thou sure that all thy metaphors 
Do give me joy, Ser Dante? 
Dante. 

O Beatrice! 
Gemma. 

The Irate lion feels his keepei's touch 
On tawny mane, though light as thistledown ! 
Dante. 

A thoughtless woman's wit sees idle mirth 
In sacred things, and tries its wreath of roses 
On sodden skuils. 
Beatrice. 

Now, out of gloomy moods 
We fain would laugh thee, Dante. Faith, 

thy brain 
Must feed on graveyard damps or midnight 

mists 
From salty marsh, so stern the mind that 

moulds 
Thy features to a lengthy face. 
Francesca. 

Say short; 



24 



Dante Act I 



'TIs like Eve's apple — ruddy, red and round. 
[All laugh,'] 

Marco. 

Thy apple savors more of fabled Paris 
Than Eden; more of discord than of knowl- 
edge. 

Beatrice. 

Ne'er heed these foolish jests; we honor thee 
As poet to the highest Court of Love, 
As singer in May's festival. 

Dante. [To Beatrice.] 
Madonna, 
Thy father lured me to this verdant shade 
With promise of thy presence, and I'm here 
In thy bright glance to bask, as snowdrops 

warm 
To life from Winter's chill In smile of Spring. 

Francesca. 

Wilt tune no lyre for other maids; I vow 
Guido will strike a note for Donna Vanna; 
Now can I not persuade thee to laud me, 
To rhyme of dark as well as golden tress. 
And halo my plain self with poet's craft? 

Marco. 

Let prose prove honest substitute for rhyme 
And say thou art the fairest maid to me. 



Act I Dante 25 

Beatrice. 

Come, friends, let's gather golden blooms' 
together 

To greet the goodly company from Florence. 

And will not Dante wend his steps with ours? 
Dante. 

Thy lightest wish Is high command to me. 
Francesca. 

Haste, Messer Dante. Her wit's no laggard 

In crossing swords with thine. 
Beatrice. 

Mine now is sheathed. 

[She holds out her hand to Dante. He 
bends and kisses it, then walks by her 
side.] 

GuiDO. 
Smile, Beatrice, smile his frowns away. 
We need the songs that Dante sings when 

gay: 
For sing ho I sing hey ! 'TIs joyous May, 
And maidens are sighing, and lovers are cry- 
ing: 
* I love for a year as well as a day.' 

[Exeunt all but Gemma.] 

[Enter Gemma's brother, CoRso Donatl] 



26 Dante Act I 

CoRSO. [Seeing Gemma alone. '\ 

Why solitary, Gemma? Have the youths 

Forgotten what is due to a Donati? 
Gemma. 

Good Corso, nay; but yet Donati may 

Forget what's due the youths. They weary 
me. 
CORSO. 

What — none can suit thy fancy, sister? 
Speak: 

Hath not a poet sung thy heart away? 
Gemma. 

If so, his own is in another's keeping. 

And all his thoughts are centered on the stars. 
Corso. 

Visions, fair sister — visions. Youthful poets 

Oft dower maids with fancied charms, for 
dummies 

On which those verdant rhymesters string 
their verse. 

The star this rhymester lifts his voice unto 

May fall! 
Gemma. 

Not if the fates ordain she shine. 
[CORSO. 

Strong men o'ertop the fates with sheer per- 
sistence. 



Act I Dante 27 

Gemma. 

Ambitious words do not beget great deeds. 

CORSO. 
Mine father them. I will not hide my mean- 
ing. 
Dante may sing of Beatrice's charms, 
Yet weds her not — but thee, a proud Donati ! 
Gemma. 

Ah, Corso; to fulfill such prophecy — 
CORSO. 

Be led by me. I know a way to tie 
This poet's roving fancy to a wife. 
He'll dance a tame-bear husband at thy 
hearth ! 
Gemma. 

Hast thou witch-potion or a wizard's phial? 
Corso. 

Go, laugh with youths and maidens, and if 

pain 
Possess thee, mask it with a smile. Disdain 
To bare thy heart-aches, till the time is ripe 
To conquer Dante In one stirring scene; 
And let thy passion like a whirlwind then, 
Drive him into thine arms. Be patient, 
Gemma! 
[He kisses her. She slowly follows the 
others and goes o«/.] 



28 Dante Act I 

[Enter Falco PoRTiNARi, Dal Colle 
and followers.'] 

Falco. 

Most welcome, Corso, as our guest to-day; 
What trouble In the air overclouds thy brow? 
CORSO. 

To-morrow's Ills. The cause obsesses me. 
'Tis time to rouse us. Every man we need; 
But arms and horses spring not from the 

ground, 
And gold can buy what wit may not com- 
mand: 
So gold we need more than the people's will. 
Dal Colle. 

My daughter's hand is sought this day by 

one 
Whose gold we can annex. 
Corso. 

Urge on the match. 
Time counts with us. We are beset with 

foes 
That crop up round us like rain-nourished 

weeds. 
Hew down a score and hundreds fill their 

place. 
Among our so-styled friends are traitors too ; 



'Act I Dante 



29 



That charlatan of singers — CavalcantI, 
And Dante — 
Dal Colle. 

Prithee, spare our poet. 

CORSO. 

BlanchI more than Guelph is he. But wait, 
I have a plan to bind him to our interests. 
Dal Colle. 

We'll treat this subject further on the mor- 
row. 
Falco. 

Ay; for to-day we play the lavish patrons 
In pageant of our city's Feast of Love, 
And must not therefore grudge youth's jol- 
lities. 
[They talk apart on the terrace.'] 
[Re-enter Francesca and GiOVANNA.] 
GlOVANNA. 

I will not linger near thee now to mark 
The treacherous blushes telling of thy love. 
Francesca. 
Hush, hush, I have no love. 

GlOVANNA. 

No love In Cesca ! 
I'll wager thee a new sweet song of Dante's 
That thou wilt soon be Marco's bride. Take 
counsel 



30 Dante Act I 

Of merry birds who mated months ago. 
List to their singing, Cesca. Hear them say: 
We'll have no spinster in our midst this 
May.' 

[Exit.l 

Francesca. 

Yet ' Nay ' is quickly said, and ' Yea ' me- 

thlnks 
More quickly still. Fond fool to fancy 

maids 
Are won so lightly. What power hath love 

that I 
Should be so glad to yield my virgin pride 
Unto a stranger's keeping? Yet Fd box 
His saucy ears if he but whisper this. 
And still I love him. Come, my Marco, 

come! 

Dal Colle. [Joining Francesca.] 

So, wench, thou hast been dreaming of love- 
knots. 
And turtle doves. 

Francesca. 

I, father? Nay, my dreams. 
My thoughts, dwell rather on the lance than 
needle. 



'Act I Dante 31 

Dal Colle. 

Tut, girl; I know thy whims. Have not 

thine ears 
Drunk In too many passioned words of late? 
Francesca. 

Ay, when thy broth's too hot, or cake's too 
cold. 
Dal Colle. {Taking her hand.] 

Shut thy pert lips, thou f roward minx I 
Francesca. 

A kiss 
Will close them fast. 
Dal Colle. 

Thou shouldst be saving such 
For gracious wooer. 
Francesca. 

When he comes, I will. 
Dal Colle. 

He came and went. 
Francesca. 

• Without a chance for me 
To courtesy low and say: * I thank thee, nay? ' 
Dal Colle. 

Why nay. If he did please thee? 
Francesca. 

He would not. 



32 Dante Act I 

Dal Colle. 

How canst thou tell unless thou sawst the 
man? 

Francesca. 

rd have a nay for full a score of men; 
This one would be too fat, and that too lean, 
And this too short, and that too tall, too old. 
Too young, too grave, too gay. I'd pick a 

fault 
In Cupid's self, If he came wooing me. 

Dal Colle. 

So wilt thou dwell as virgin e'en to eld, 

And wither on a single stalk. Instead 

Of knowing fruited boughs of matronhood. 

Francesca. 

Show me perfection, and I'll mate with It. 

Dal Colle. 
As Marco falls to pose as perfect man, 
When he sought thee this morn, I scorned his 
suit. 

Francesca. 

Marco was seeking me? 

Dal Colle. 

Vowed he would prove 
A son to me ; swore his undying love 
For thee. 

Francesca. 

And went he then without a yea? 



Act I Dante 33 

Dal Colle. 

Didst thou not say a nay would be thy an- 
swer? 
Francesca. 

Never to him, the bravest, kindest man. 
His love would crown with joy a woman's 

life. 
O, that he stood but here, I'd to him straight 
And throw mine arms about his neck as now 
I twine them round thine own, and whisper 

low: 
' Marco, I love thee; take me to thy heart ! ' 
Dal Colle. 

Then try it, child; for knowing woman's 

mind 
Changes as quickly as an April day, 
I bade this valiant wooer turn his steps 
This way, and get his answer from thy lips. 
Francesca. 

The reddening West make me a fool if here 
He finds me. 
Dal Colle. 

Whither goest, Francesca? 
Francesca. 

To ponder o'er the fitness of this wooing. 
[Francesca runs of but meets Marco 
mtering. He stops her, Dal Colle 



34 Dante Act I 

watches them; then, smiling, goes 
out.] 
Marco. 

Cesca, am I ne'er welcome? 
Francesca. 

Truly not, 
Unless thou bringst good news. 
Marco. 

I bring myself. 
Francesca. 

That thou art news, I never knew before; 
That thou art good, I ne'er shall ascertain. 
Marco. 

But not for lack of opportunity. 
Francesca. [Conrtesying.] 
Great thanks! The chance is not much to 
my taste. 
Marco. 

But 'tis to mine, and for the future we 
May share possessions. 
Francesca. 
But then your may, 

Can wait upon my shall, till both are worn 
To one leg betwixt them with the standing. 
And still my shall remains unchanged — ^your 

may 
Had better go to the wall, Ser Marco! 



Act I Dante 



35 



Marco. 

Thy father thinks not so. 
Francesca. 

I'm not my father, 
The saints be praised! Wouldst have me 

think his thoughts? 
Then must I grow his beard, thin, gray my 

locks, 
And wrinkle up my brows and harden palms, 
Donning a garb like thine for women's folds. 
Speak, Marco, would I please thee better 
thus ? 
Marco. 

Nay, thou art best as maid, with all thy faults. 
Francesca. 
Then I have faults? And dost thou croon 

them o'er 
With ardent zeal, as crooning dame her 
beads? 
Marco. 

Come, Cesca; in a war of words, Fm naught; 
Lay thy small hand in mine, and say thou 

' Marco, 
I love thee,' and the wide, wide world hence- 
forth 
Could crumble all to dust ere I prove false. 
[He tries to take her hand,] 



36 Dante Act I 

FrancescA. 

Wouldst wed a puppet — painted piece of 

wax — 
A maiden who might talk a man to death, 
Or waste her time o'er love scenes, or a shrew, 
Or silly saint, who'd cross if thou but swore — 
A good-for-naught, who was to break her 

heart 
For love of thee? 
Marco. 

What means this speech? 
Francesca. 

Good sir. 
Thy memory's dull; these words should call 

to mind 
Fair flowers, bright eyes, stone bench, and 

Beatrice 
When offering thee a wife. 
Marco. 

Ah, pretty witch, 
I see thy wicked meaning, and for this crime 
Shall claim sweet recompense — a kiss, my 
Cesca. 

[Takes her hand.'] 

Francesca. 
Nay, tarry yet. Women are vanes, men say; 



Act I Dante 37 

What wind will blow me round to face thy 
love? 
Marco. 

My heart, sweet maid. 
Francesca. 

But It may prove false prophet. 
Marco. 

And wherefore hath thy father tricked me 

here? 
To jest at honest love? No answer? 
[Going.-] 
Francesca. 
Stay! 
My father likes thy suit — speaks well of 

thee — 
Butl- 
Marco. 

Would fain be rid of It. Nay, Cesca, 
I'd force no maid to wed against her will. 
Francesca. 

Nay, nay; not quite against my will — 
Marco. 

But not 
With all thy maiden heart. I know thee true 
And would not gain thy hand without thy 

love. 
Farewell I 



38 Dante Act I 

Francesca. 

But stay! A little love— 
Marco. 

A little! 
Nay — all thou hast to give, or none! Out 

with It! 
Speak thou yea or nay. 
Francesca. 

A dwarf — a pigmy *yea/ 
Marco. 

A stout, strong ' yea ' — A Hercules ! 
And say thou lovest me — or scorn thy ' yea.' 
Francesca. 

Ah, Marco — fie — fie! Wouldst force me 
say It? 
Marco. 

Alas ! Then we must part — Farewell ! 
Francesca. 

But wait! 
Give me the time to say these fateful words 
That bind me thine. Marco — yea — I love 
thee! 
[They embrace, and go out.] 
\_fFith sounds of merriment, enter Gemma, 
Vanna, GuidO; a pa-ge, youths and 
maidens,'] 



Act I Dante 39 

GlOVANNA. 

[Pointing to Francesca, who is leaving 
with Marco.] 
Hey, for the joys of May; there's a sweet 

pair 
Cooing and billing like two turtle doves. 
Guido can make a little song for them. 
GUIDO. 

Dante might make another. He lingers 
With Beatrice in the grove. 
Page. 

[Watching from the terrace.'] 
Now Dal Colle 
And Corso swoop on him. He will be 

caught 
In swirling politics. Strike out, good swim- 
mer, 
Clear eddies and then land thyself with us. 
[Re-enter Dante. He is immediately sur- 
rounded by youths and maidens.] 
Dante. 

[Gazing at the group.] 
On life's gnarled tree, O Youth, thou art the 

blossom. 
With all the pretty secrets of the Spring; 
Rose petals tint thy cheeks; the scent of May 
Perfumes thy breath; the cadences of birds 



40 Dante Act I 

Re-echo In thy voice. Thy being diffuses 
A fragrant freshness. Go and blend thy 

sweets 
With other dainty buds and blooms around: 
Anon I'll rhyme my homage to my lady. 
[Amid the protests of the maidens and 

swains Dante turns to Dal Colle, 

CoRSO and Portinari. Guido joins 

Dante as the youths and maidens zvith- 

draw.] 
Dal Colle. 

These pleasant pastimes are an Interlude 

To civic duties for our city's good. 

"We Guelphs need watch and ward our party's 

strength, 
Lest Ghlbelllnes Intrude upon our rights. 
[Dante is impatient.] 
CoRSO. [In an unpleasant mood.] 

Lest BlanchI undermine our strength ; VIerl 
Del Cerchi Is the man we most should dread. 
Dante. 

Here prejudice, not reason, speaks, Donatl. 
As seething river, turbulent with flood, 
O'erflowing banks and ruining greening 

crops, 
Arose from tiny rill In some far cranny 
Of lonely hillside — so this bitter feud 



Act I Dante 41 

Spread out In warring factions, did arise 
From trivial source. Two women's angry 

looks 
First lit this coal of enmity betwixt 
* Ye twain. When VIerl at the feast, In jest. 
Begged that some friendly soul should sit be- 
tween 
Thy lady and her neighbor at the board — 

CoRSO. [Interrupting.'] 

He planned an insult, seizing her arm. 

Dante. 

Nay, 
'Twas kindly meant, but when thy lady rained 
Hot words on him, his fiery temper blazed; 
Out leaped thy sword to answer his rash 

speech, 
And in that clash of steel this feud was born. 
Instead of Guelphs uniting 'gainst their foes. 
We stand divided In our aim, alas! 
As Nerl and Bianchll 

CORSO. 

Ay, and will 
While merchants still uphold such men as 
VIerl ; 

* See Appendix. 



42 Dante Act I 

Self-satisfied, patting their well-filled pouches, 

To lord it o'er the ragged populace, 

While soldiers' arms and valor go for naught. 

Dante. 
Our merchants fill as honorable place 
As soldiers. Our guilds give much to enrich 
Our lives. Through them the Florentines 

join hands 
With many lands, e'en to the Orient. 

CORSO. 

Are we the better for gay bales of silk, 
Attar of roses and gem-crested cups? 

Dal Colle. [To Cavalcanti.] 

What says our poet philosopher to this? 

GuiDO. 

My voice need not be heard when Dante's 

here, 
Far less when speaks the Baron — Flower of 

Chivalry! 
The new St. Chrysostom, Second St. George ! 

CoRSO. [Savagely.'] 

My chivalry at least absolves me, Ser, 
From posing as a poet, rhyming florins 
Out of the people's pockets. 

GuiDO. [Drawing sword.] 
Messer Corsol 



Act I Dante 43 

Dante. [Holding GuiDO.] 

O, Peace! How quarrel on a day like this! 
The very skies in their unbroken blue 
Rebuke thy anger. 'Tis sin to trespass 
On holidays with witless feuds, my Guido; 
These golden hours call for gentleness. 
Come, let us join Madonna Beatrice. 

[With Dante's hand on Cavalcanti's 
shoulder, the two poets walk into the 
garden and exeunt.'] 
CoRSO. [To Dal Colle, looking in the di- 
rection Dante took.] 
'Tis Guidons piping charms the Allighieri 
To consort with that Cerchi tribe. Once 

Guido 
Is driven from the field, Dante is ours. 
Dal Colle. 

Corso, do nothmg rash to-day. The people 
Are in jovial mood. 
CORSO. 

A quarrel might be picked 
Perchance next month at San Giovanni's feast. 
With streets packed full of lusty fellows, we 
Shall find our purpose ripe. 
Dal Colle. 

Ay, bustling crowds 
Have their advantages for spitting men, 



44 



Dante Act I 



But here 'tis vain, for Dante favors Guido, 
And Beatrice favors Dante. Corso, 
We cannot lure this falcon from his mate. 

CORSO. 

A shadowy maiden is not mate for Dante! 
Dante, as well as Florence, must be ours, 
'Tis well to bind him subtly to our cause 
By ties of blood. Gemma is fair. Dal 

Colle, 
Kind Fate must match this pair to suit our 
ends. 
Dal Colle. 

Hush — here Dante nears with Beatrice. 
{Re-enter Dante and Beatrice. Bea- 
trice has a branch of cytisus laburnum.'] 
[Enter with music, revellers garbed in 
white and yellow. They also carry 
branches of laburnum.'] 
{Enter Guido Cavalcanti, Gemma Don- 

ATI, GlOVANNA, DiNO BrUNINI, FaLCO 

PoRTiNARi, Marco Nerli and Fran- 

CESCA.] 

All. 

Honor to our host and hail to Dante ! 
Falco. 

Kind thanks, fair dames and maidens, gentle 
youths ; 



Act I 



Dante 



45 



And reverend signers, as my honored guests, 
I bid ye all glad welcome to the feast. 
Marco. 

Hail to the poets I 
All. 

Hail to our Dante! Hail to Don Falcol 
[Dante and Falco how acknowledg- 
ment. The Votaries dance and pipe and 
form a circle^ Beatrice, Gemma, Gio- 
VANNA and Francesca in the center,"] 
Revellers Chant. 

See fairest maids in Florence; one must wear 
The crown of beauty on her silken hair; 
All four our true allegiance share. 
Now name the Queen who dare! 
Several. 



Beatrice ! 



Gemma ! 



Vanna ! 



All. 
Beatrice ! 



Francesca I 



Beatrice! 



Beatrice 



Beatrice ! 



Giovanna I 



Beatrice ! 



46 Dante Act I 

A Youth. 

The crown is won by Donna Beatrice. 

\^All cheer, A wreath is placed on Bea- 
trice's head, and she is escorted to a 
throne^ Francesca and GioVANNA on 
one side, Beatrice's page and Gemma 
on the other, '\ 
Falco. 

Now let the Cavalllera add renown 

To this day's sports. Let each recount his 

deeds 
Of valor done for his fair lady's sake. 
{Dante steps forward.] 
Dante. 
Three moons agone, the Donna Bice, in sport 
Flung down her glove, and bade me bring it 

back 
Filled with the pearls the robber Ugo stole. 
Here, for my lady, are both glove and pearls, 
Redeemed from robbers' roost, where dead 
he lies. 

[Dante drops the glove and pe'arls in 
Beatrice's lap. She kisses them with 
delight. All cheer.] 

Corso. 
And I, at gentle Vanna's light behest, 



Act I Dante 47 

Stole through our foeman's camp, risking my 
life 

In her sweet service. And hence I claim re- 
ward. 

Give me thy colors as thy loyal knight. 
[Kneels to GlOVANNA.] 

GlOVANNA. 

'Twas but a jest. I need thy service not. 
CoRSO. [Rising furiously.] 

Dost mock me, jade? 
GuiDO. [Drawing his sword.] 

At men, Ser Corso, aim thy Insolence, 

So that they properly may answer It. 
Corso. [Draws his sword and lunges at 
GuiDO.] 

Ah, blows the wind, Ser Poet, In that quarter? 
[Falco rises and intervenes.] 
Dante. 

Nay, nay I Defer your petty feuds. To-day 

We worship peace. Our valiant soldiers 
need 

Their swords for foes. And If they must be 
drawn 

On this fair day, their use is gentleness. 

Cut off gay branches to adorn your homes 

With the sweet semblance of a golden rain; 

And let the fire in your swords flare out 



48 Dante Act I 

In passioned words of love to celebrate, 

As honest Florentines, Calendl Magglo. 
Falco. 

Come, let us have our poets sing their lays. 
Dal Colle. 

Methlnks their trade of tinkering idle rhyme 

Begotten of spring fancies, fits not men 

We need for civic duties of the hour. 
Dante. [Springing tip,] 

The fancies born of spring breed noblest 
deeds, 

No power so strong to mould men's wills as 
love. 

The people need the lesson of the spring. 

God's glance may gjint in burnished helm 
and shield, 

But In God's mother's month His smile lies 
hid 

In each enfolded flower and budding bough. 

His voice Is heard In each vibrating note 

Of birds a-qulver with May's melody; 

And every hour's duty should be love — 

Love of fair women, love of home and God. 

[Cries of * Dante is right! Hail to our 
poet^ Dante/] 



Act I Dante 49 

CORSO. 

Still I approve Dal Colle's words. This 

tinkering 
Of rhymes — 
GuiDO. ^^Interrupting.'] 

Now out upon thee for a fool. 
Here is my sword defending Poesie — 
Dante. [Restraining him.] 

She needs no champion, Guldo, for the world 
Needs her to champion It. She sings to men 
In joy and sorrow, teaching how to woo 
And how to voice the bravest battle hymn. 
Her lightest whisper's heard In hell and 
heaven. 
Falco. 

Then let us hear her gracious voice to-day. 
The sun declines^ — the contest must begin. 
[The pipers pipe a strain. Order is re- 
stored and a young poet rises,] 
Poet. 
Here at her feet I sigh, 
Here would I gladly He 
To dream of her and die. 
Her beauty Is divine; 
An angel In a shrine, 
Too lovely to be mine. 
[They applaud him.] 



50 Dante Act I 

DiNo Brunini. 

I crave your gracious patience for a song. 
A Maiden. 

Is't a crow's song? 
Another Maiden. 

Will the porpoise dance, too? 
[All laugh.'] 
Dino. [In a squeaky voice.'] 

The lily white, the lily white, 

Is every maiden's fair delight; 

But when roast pigeons greet the sight, 

I'd rather have the wine that's white. 
Chorus. 

He'd rather have the wine that's white. 
Dino. 

The roses red, the roses red. 

Bloom for the living from the dead; 

But when the table's richly spread, 

I'd rather have the wine that's red. 
Chorus. [Laughing.'] 

He'd rather have the wine that's red. 
GuiDO. 

Shame, man, to sing of food and wine, when 
Beauty 

Sits here and smiles before thy dullard gaze. 
Several. 

Sing! Guido, sing! 



Act I Dante 51 

GuiDO. [Approaching Giovanna.] 

Spring comes ! Beneath her white feet rise 

The flowers debonair. 

Her sweet breath scents the air. 

Within her eyes no guile 

Is hid. Upon the breeze 

Her long hair floats. Her smile 

Invokes the birds, till these 

Fill all the wood with song. 

Her voice sets hearts afire, 

For Spring is herald to sweet Love's desire. 

My lady comes! Her lightest step awakes 

An echo in my breast, 

Arousing deep unrest. 

Until I touch her hand, 

Until her lips greet mine. 

Her servant to command, 

Here at her feet, divine, 

I kneel and bow. Her spring 

Blooms tho' the leaves are sere. 

Her radiancy illumines all the year. 

[There are cries of * Hail! Guido! Hail 
to Cavalcanti/^li 
Falco. 

Bravely has Guido rhymed his lady's charms; 

The fair Giovanna — Primavera ! 

Now, Dante Allighieri, strike thy lyre! 



52 Dante Act 1 

CoRSO. {Aside to Dal Colle.] 

Hearst that, Dal Colle, how they laud him? 

Dal Colle. 
Wait, Corso, wait till San Giovannrs Day. 
[The sun is setting behind the trees, 
Dante rises and approaches Beatrice.] 

Dante. 

When suddenly, amid the thoughtless crowd, 

There falls a hush upon the place, 

And glory shines on every face. 

Reflected as from Angels' wings 

Passing the earth at birth or death; 

Or, from the censers, as they swing. 

Full of rich Incense, and men's breath 

Comes faster, as they look and kneel — 

'TIs when a miracle they spy, 

And my most beauteous lady passes by. 

It were as if a fragrant rose from Heaven 
Had fallen to earth. Her glorious mien 
Astounds all men; her gaze serene 
Abashes sin. Sheen of the sea 
Is in her eyes; the sun's red gold 
Glints In her hair; and purity 
Like shining robe doth her enfold. 
Ah, sensuous beauty may delight. 
But Beatrice's blest In God's own sight ! 



Act I Dante 



53 



All. 

To Dante the prize! Alllghierl wins! 
Hall, Dante! Hall, Durante Alllghierl! 

l^The sun has set and the afterglow illu- 

mines the scene."] 
[Beatrice takes off her wreath and places 

it on Dante's head.] 

Falco. 

And now, good friends, we'll liaste unto the 

feast. 
I bid ye all thrice welcome as my guests. 
Each drink and dance beneath night's silver 

lamps 
And let each lover toast his lady first 

[Music, All depart except Beatrice and 
Dante. Gemma lingers^ dropping her 
scarf; then also leaves. Beatrice rises 
and starts to go.] 

Dante. [Turning to Beatrice.] 

lady, stay, 

And blend thy beauty with the flowers' breath. 
Beatrice. 

1 dare not tarry now. 
Dante. 

May's song and perfume. 



54 Dante Act I 

Its leaf and bloom, with new life tremulous, 
All breathe a blended note of tender love. 
Inviting confidence. I pray thee, wait 
To hear the message my soul hath for thine. 
[She sits again slowly near Dante. 
Pause.'] 
Beatrice. 

I listen, but our poet's tones are mute. 
Dante. 

*When in thy presence, honored one, I stand, 

* My spirits faint till naught but sight is left, 

* While e'en my daring orbs grow dazed and 

dim 

* Beneath thy beauty. Speech deserteth me ; 

* My troubled heart, wild beating, stifles 

breath. 
My mind, too moved to think, for tyrant 

love. 
Whose liegeman true am I, claims every sense. 
O, thou who art my sight, and pulse and 

thought, 
Be courteous with thy power, most gentle 

Bice, 
And sport not with the sorrows of my soul, 
Unless It pleases thee to see me wan 
With wretchedness. 

*Vita Nuova, 



Act I Dante k,^ 

Beatrice. 

Not so; with joyousness 

I would thy life were filled. 
Dante. 

Each day men ask 

* For whom hath love so wasted thee, O 

Dante?' 
And I could say ' For one who mockingly 
Commands me to be gay, while her cold heart 

' Slays me outright with her own loveliness.' 

Beatrice. 

Forgive youth's wantonness. 

[Dante. 

Forgive me, Sweet, 
That to such soul as thine I could impute 
A fault; no flaw could keenest eye spy out 
In thy pure heart; when women see thee pass 

* They cry, * What miracle on earth is here? ' 

* And men find evil thoughts killed by thy 

gaze. 
Beatrice. 

If I believed thy words, to purge my pride 
' Twould Paternosters and more Aves need 
Than one poor tongue could tell throughout 
the year. 

*Vita Nuova. 



56 Dante Act I 

Dante. 

To know one's worth can scarce be counted 
crime. 

Beatrice. 

Yet to delight in self, is deadliest sin, 
And pride thus fostered, proves inimical 
To true Philanthropy; O, shun it, Dante! 

Dante. 

As trusting babe clings close to mother's 

breast, 
With instinct truly seeking safest haven. 
So turns my heart to thy rare influence, 
Knowing thy virtue guards mine own. So 

speak, 
Most gentle lady. Would that I might listen 
To such sweet harmony till deafening death 
Dulls ears of clay — then find in Paradise 
Angels still syllabling thy tender tones. 

Beatrice. 

Trust not to human sympathy for strength 
To fight 'gainst sin. Trust only aid divine; 
Nor lean on some poor mortal prop like me, 
Who from thy sight may any day be taken. 

Dante. 

Madonna, if thou fail me — life is death. 
Should I be lingering, hearing one say 
' come,' — 



Act I Dante 57 

Hug mouldy garb of earth 'stead donning 

robe 
Bright with celestial woven tints? 
Dante. 

If He 
Who lent such graciousness to us were pleased 
To call thee to Himself again, dare we 
Still stay thy steps, tho' in the jealous grave 
Slept all our joys with thy fair mortal frame? 
But should thy presence fail me while In life 
Thou dost yet bless all human hearts and 

eyes, 
Then farewell, peace ! Unrest lords o'er my 

soul! 
Beatrice. 

Withhold thy passionate love from me, and 

seek 
To house it in a heart that turns to thee. 
Dante. 

Where could I nest my love, since In thy 

breast 
It shelter sought years past? Could aught 

dislodge 
Such holy guest from such a holy rest? 
Nay, give thy heart's sweet dower to whom 

thou wilt; 
So thou art joyous, need I weep my loss? 



58 Dante Act I 

But let me keep my loyal love still pure 
And live but in the pleasure of that love. 
Beatrice. 

Alas, poor Dante ! 
Dante. 

Rich, Indeed, In love, 
Though beggared in all else. Let no salt 

drops 
Deface thy roses. See, no more I sigh. 
But smile, for in my soul thou still art mine, 
And wilt be so for aye and aye and aye. 
Beatrice. 

Dante ! By all thy poet^s fire, I plead 
For thine own sake, to rouse thee from this 
dream. 
Dante. 

Yea, dream. If life be sleep; but thro' closed 

lids 
Love speeds at will. Turn not those emerald 

eyes 
So sadly from me ; I am merry, Bice. 
Beatrice. 

Dante! Such strange joy springs from 

sad heart. 

1 cannot leave thee sad. Thou art a part 
Of all that's beautiful in life to me. 

On every lip I hear thy praises sung; 



Act I Dante 59 

Since child I ever honored thee as one 
Whose forehead touched the stars, while at 

thy feet 
We sat and listened to the songs thou stol'st 
From stranger spheres. But when thou 

speak'st of love 
Thy passion flames — a great consuming fire, 
Too splendid for a glow-worm such as I. 
Dante. 

O, let thy tender heart still plead for me. 

Beatrice. 

What wilt thou that I say? 

Dante. 

One word of hope, 
And love, to star the night of my despair. 
Beatrice. 

I falter on the threshold of my speech; 
But couldst thou wait — ■ 
Dante. 

Till when, my Beatrice? 
Beatrice. 

Give me a month or more, in which I'll strive 
To reach the pedestal whereon thy love 
With poet's fancy raises me. 
Dante. 

A month 



6o Dante Act I 

Or more ! And must I wait five endless 

weeks! [Pause.'] 
Parting and silence may be deemed best, 
But vain behest, Madonna Beatrice, 
Though dumb my tongue, with worlds divid- 
ing us, 
All varied space that might between us lie, 
Brings thee the nearer me — my soul to thee; 
Thy voice is in the breeze, thine image haunts 
The green of forest nooks, rose-tinted sky. 
Peaks purple, sapphire levels of sunlit sea, 
In dewy freshness of dawn's radiancy, 
In sunset's flaming pennant, flung across 
The west with twilight's rare necromancy, 
For thou art all in earth and heaven to me. 
[He kneels,'] 
Beatrice. 

An Empress 'neath her purple would feel 

proud 
To hear thy words. At San Giovanni's 

feast, 

I'll pray the gracious saint to bless our love. 

Then, after mass that day, come to our house, 

So we can crave my noble father's blessing. 

[Beatrice holds out both hands to 

Dante, who still kneeling, takes them 

reverently in his own.'\ 



'Act I Dante 6i 

[Enter in background, Gemma and CoRso. 
She picks up her scarf. Then, in dumb 
show, points toward Dante and Bea- 
trice. CoRSO, also in dumb show, paci- 
fies her and tells her to wait.] 

Dante. [To Beatrice.] 

O blessed San Giov^nnVs Day! thrice 

blessed ! 
O love, my love! My blessed Beatrice! 
Thou art my prize on San Giovanni's Day! 
[Dante kneels to Beatrice.] 



Curtain 



ACT II 

A room in Falco Portinari^s house in Flor^ 
ence. Enter from street: Vincenzo Dal Colle, 
■Dino Brunini, Gemma Donati and Attendant. 

Dal Colle. 

San Giovanni's day I Now may its purposes 
Work for our ends, with Corso's brains as 
guide. 
Dino. 

And DIno's legs, and eyes and tongue, to 

serve 
Those brains. Yea, yea, 'tis San Giovanni's 

Day, 
And may it bring good luck and gold to me 
For trotting off my flesh to find when Dante 
Or Guido shift their steps — 
Dal Colle. 

All for the cause. 
Dino. 
The cause I The cause is dear to me as 

Greek. 
Thou art my cause while loose thy purse 

strings dangle 
With promise of an adequate reward. 

63 



Act II Dante 63 

Dal Colle. 

Have patience, for thou knowest my word Is 

good. 
Falco has sent his household to the mass; 
A dull hind guards the door, and of the 

wenches, 
GIta alone Is left. 

DiNO. 

Pretty Gital 
Thy name suggests a pleasing picture. Smooth 
Thy kerchief; shake thy ebon locks; flash eyes. 
For DIno's here to shower smiles upon thee I 

[Dal Colle and Gemma come forward ^ 
leaving Attendant in the background.] 

Dal Colle. 

Art sure thou knowest well what part to 
play? 
Gemma. 

My brother has Instructed me. 'TIs hard 
That maid should need to scheme for love's 
reward. 

Dal Colle. 

Thy task Is easy, and the goal Is great; 
Thou'lt gain a husband, we a strong ally. 
First plead fatigue and linger here, awaiting 



64 Dante Act II 

Beatrice. We know that Dante comes 
To visit here at noon. Tell him thy tale, 
As If Impelled by his love poesy 
To speak of love. But veil the object of 
Thy fond desire. Thy brother's men will 

stir 
A broil to hinder Bice coming home. 
Dante, Impatient, will hie him to the church. 
Thou'lt follow him and show to all the crowd 
Thy fond solicitude. 

DiNO. 

Gemma, beware 
Of blows not meant for thee, but ill directed. 
Gemma. 

Fear flies before such ardent love as mine. 
I threw aside my maidenly reserve 
When Corso bade me act to aid the cause. 

Dal Colle. 
Then loudly feign a wild, tempestuous grief 
When Corso plays his part as outraged 

brother. 
And, cursing, drives thee from his sheltering 

roof. 
Then Dante's chivalry must ope his door 
To rescue thy fair name, imperilled for him. 

Gemma. 
Hush, methinks I hear our host approaching, 



Act II Dante 6^ 

DiNO. 

A swish of skirts proclaims 'tis pretty Gita. 
[Enter old GiTA.] 
Dal Colle. 

Here is a beauty to thy liking, Dino I 
DiNO. [Annoyed, to GiTA.] 

Where's thy master, witch? Speak, lazy- 
bones ! 
Gita. 

How should I know ? I have my work to do, 

To spin the flax and chide the kitchen wenches 

When they in gossip fail to turn the spit. 
Dino. 

Old Knownaught, stir thy stumps. 
Gita. [Audibly to herself.'] 

Witch, Lazybones, Knownaught. He's mad 
and fool. 
Dino. 

Thou dried-up mummy of thy youthful self. 

Tell Falco I am here. Haste, scourpot, 
haste ! 
Gita. 

Tell him? Not I, fast flinger of foul filth! 

May all the Ills of life befall thee straight! 

May murrain prey upon thy flocks and herds ; 

Crops fail, temptations of Saint Antony 

Assail thy soul, and thou succumb to each I 

May death—- 



66 Dante Act II 

[Enter Falco.] 

Falco. 

Cease bawling, GIta; get thee hence. 

[Exit GiTA.] 

Falco. 

Welcome, good friends, on San Giovanni's 
Day. 

DiNO. 

Good morrow, neighbor. We come to find 

thee 
Guarded like Hell, with worse than Cerberus; 
A surly soul, thy Gita. 
Falco. 

But honest, Dino; 
And sourest temper often makes sweet cooks, 
Who bake meats well, and wrinkled hands 

can spice 
And roll smooth paste. 
Dino. 

All indigestion's ills 
Would wait upon my meals such hags did 
serve. 
Falco. 

Tarry till noon, Ser Dino. Then thou'lt have 
My daughter's pretty maids to wait on thee. 



Act II Dante 67 

Dal Colle. 

'TIs rumored through the town she weds dl 
BardI, 

Falco. 

Simon dl Bardi Is my choice for her, 
A worthy mate for daughter of our house. 

Dal Colle. 

And is fair Beatrice strong again? 

Falco. 

The leech restored her from the fever's grasp, 
But she is weak. What news hast thou, Dal 
Colle? 

Dal Colle. 

I came for some, Ser Falco. A certain Beppo, 
An unhung rascal, who hath called himself 
My servant erst, is missing since a brawl 
Two other knaves out of my service knocked. 
Tm told he's hurt and cared for in thy house. 

Falco. 

True, true. He is a lusty fellow. Soon 
ril send him back to thee. 

Dal Colle. 

My thanks are thine. 
How many more poor knaves hast thou be- 
friended? 

Falco. 
I keep not count of guests God sends to me. 



(68 Dante Act II 

DiNO. 

But of the lame and halt there'll be no limit. 

Falco. 

'TIs true. My house is taxed to shelter all 
The luckless wights misfortune overtakes. 
One lodges In the cellar, one in garret, 
And one on bed of straw In kitchen lies. 

Dal Colle. 

This open-handed largess leads thee far. 

Falco. 

Beyond these walls Fll build a house 

For homeless sick, where all can go, 

And service claim of leech and pothecary. 

DiNO. 

On such a folly wouldst be wasting gold? 
Falco. 

Not wasting, DIno; all we spend on others 
Is stored in Heaven for us with ten-fold in- 
terest. 
And Dante will be aiding me In this. 

[Enter Marco and Francesca.] 

Marco. 

Greetings, good Portinari ! 
Francesca. 

May blessings 

Of San Giovanni's feast day rest on thee. 



Act II Dante 69 

Falco. 

A welcome ever waits ye here, my friends. 

A special welcome for the bride and groom. 
[Gemma greets Francesca.] 
DiNO. [Addressing his niece Francesca and 

her Husband.] 

Good morrow, Cesca Eve and Marco Adam. 

Still vaunting of your new-found Paradise? 

Let ye once taste of the forbidden fruit 

Satiety, and each will quick spy out 

The other's nakedness of soul. Sew leaves 

Of manners and of forms to hide Love's bar- 
renness, 

'Twill still peep out through most elaborate 
stitching. 

As yet the lover lingers In the looks 

Of new-made husband, and the honeymoon 

Clings to thy steps. 
Francesca. 

More pity If it's reached 

His heels already. On his lips this morn 

Methought that I could taste it still a scrap. 
Marco. 

In our hearts, wife, when waneth one fair 
moon, 

Shall rise another sweeter than the first. 

Providing honey lavishly to feed 



70 Dante Act II 

Throughout our years of eld that wild bee, 
Love. 
DiNO. 

String out your comfits on a silver thread. 
Sugar and rn'oonshlne! Food for fool or 

fay. 
But wait till rage domestic storms, and where 
Are sweets and beams? Melted, dispersed 

and gone ! 
Love Is at best but restless, flitting guest; 
Clip close his wings to hold him all thine own. 
Love's no more love from god to changeling 

turned ; 
But let him near thee poised on outstretched 

wing 
And wildly beats thy heart to win him thine. 
Let humdrum souls prate on In drowsy tones 
Of joys of household loves; to me the kiss 
Stolen at midnight from reluctant lips 
Of some coy maid Is worth full thousand fold 
The known embraces of a wedded wife. 
Francesca. 

Thou raven-uncle I Auguries Ill-omed 
Fall faint on ears stopped with love's sweetest 

song. 
But let me turn Cassandra and foretell 
Thy nearing punishment for flouting love; 



Act II Dante 7 1 

Before thy time thou shalt grow old. Sharp 

words 
Bring wrinkles; crooked thoughts work 

crooked lines 
On smoothest skin, and pinched soul makes 

pinched face. 
See, uncle, youth slips by thee unawares; 
Sure as I live, there are three hairs turned 

gray. 

DiNO. 

Gallimatia! Niece, thy wits wool-gathering 
See all things white. Call Dante here, and 

tell him 
He's lily-fair; 'twill suit his jocund mood. 
Francesca. 

O, uncle ! thou art not a man but mass 
Of vanity and selfishness, skinned o'er 
With maxims for preserving beauty's tints. 
[She turns to talk with Falco.] 
DiNO. [Aside.'] 

To heed an angry woman's words Is like 
Stopping to count the stinging grains of dust 
The east wind bears. Crowfeet! said she; 

gray hairs? 
The wench is mad! They're ten years off 

at least! 
The devil's In the witch to drawl of age. 



72 Dante Act II 

[Enter Giovanna and Ladies.] 

Several. 

Greetings, dear Ser Falco! Where is Bice? 

Falco. 

She wended way to mass before the fete. 

Giovanna. 

She must not linger In the crowded church. 
We'll bring her back to celebrate the day 
At home. Good San Giovanni will forgive 
That we burn fewer tapers in his honor, 
While we can deck his image here with blos- 
soms. 

DiNO. 

O, would fair maids, this were my saint's day, 

too, 
So dainty hands could crown my head with 
roses. 
Francesca. 

A devil's day would suit thee better, uncle. 
Dal Colle. 
Hast heard what this gray-bearded spend- 
thrift plans? 
A house for homeless sick and wounded 

churls ? 
'Twill surely foster brawls to hear of it. 
Giovanna. 

O, may I send my churlish kitten there? 



Act II Dante 73 

She's lost a whisker in a fight and limps, 
With one sore paw held piteously aloft. 

Francesca. 

And our house-dog, a veteran In frays, 
Needs two new ears, and half a foot of tail! 

Gemma. 

And my poor moulting thrush Is needing 
feathers. 
[The ladies laugh.'] 

Marco. [Turning to Francesca.] 
Ne'er jest at noble Impulses, Madonna. 

Francesca. 

We stand rebuked, and kneel for pardon. 

Falco. 

Rise, 
Fair sinner. Thy sweet penance overleaps 
Thy fault. 

Marco. 

'Tis bravely planned to heal the sick. 
Within the walls by generous Falco built 
Ills blessings turn, and duties glide to acts 
Of joy, while faith can whisper of bright 

shore 
Beyond the bitter water of death's tide. 
A house of shelter for the stricken poor 
And house of healing where the weary rest 



74 Dante Act II 

Is God's own inn for God's own chosen 
guests. 

DiNO. 

And as Dante sings * let each trivial act 
Be our wax candle/ 
Marco. 

Nay, that's wrong; 'tis thus: 
' O, let each trivial act shine on each life 
Aglow with good — an altar light for soul.' 
If thou twist Dante's words, thou'lt feel his 
hand; 

* Passing a smithy but a se'nnight since, 
Dante heard amid the roar and blowing 
Some snatches of his songs sung^ quite amiss. 
And straight in street he flung the smithy's 

tools ; 
So did he beat a dullard driving asses, 
iWho chanted idle rhymes, and dubbed them 

his. 

* Wouldst bastard thy vile thoughts by father- 

ing them 
On me? ' cried Dante, seizing swift the stock 
The varlet held, and laid the blows on him. 
Falco. 
Ay, Dante preaches tortures should be tried 

* Sachetti. 



Act II Dante 75 

On those whose lawless touch, soils poesy's 

robe. 
Ape's hairy paw can with rude grasp deface 
A Giotto's masterpiece; an idiot can 
With sinewy strength swing high in crazy 

mirth 
A ponderous hammer round a Psyche's head, 
And shatter with one blow a faultless gem 
Of Grecian sculptured art, and cry: 'Ha! 

Ha! 
These things are only made. I can unmake ! ' 
A cur can snap in twain a lute's sweet strings 
And mute forever make its dulcet tones. 
Ape, idiot, cur unite in men, says Dante, 
Who with coarse hands spoil pictured images 
Of poet^s mind, break up his moulded 

thought. 
Or change to discord music of his brain. 
And, smiling, mar that which they could not 

make. 
Dal Colle. 

Trust not the poets, who, surpassing sophists 
In sophistry, are full of reasons as 
The scented honeycomb with cells; with smile 
Sweet as the prisoned liquid, gold within 
Yet from the wood elves' nectar differing 

wide. 



76 Dante Act II 

For he who'd rashly sip these traitors' sweets, 
Finds subtle poison creeping through his 

veins, 
His manhood shrivelling up beneath the touch 
Of feigning friendship's cloak — like Hercules, 
Fire-wrapped In white robe stained with Nes- 

sus' blood. 
Marco. 

We need trust friends, though some are 

proven safe 
To trust with plans as cat with cream; yet 

men 
Will venture hands in hornet's nests till stung. 
But Corso's none. He proves his enmity 
E'en when he smiles. He hath more strings 

to bow 
Than there are tendrils on a sturdy vine. 
He watches Guido, like snake beneath the 

grass 
May wait to strike, though still unfelt his 

sting. 
Dal Colle. 
Thou'lt feel it yet He knows thou*rt not his 

friend. 
Francesca. 

O, leave the eternal fret of politics. 
[Holding up book to Dal Colle.] 



Act II Dante 77 

See this fair gift — a new illumined missal 
Fra Benedetto wrought for me. Each page 
Is rich in gold and crimson, and pale blue, 
With scrolls and flowers full of heads of 

saints. 
I fear my thoughts will wander from the 

mass, 
When feasting eyes on it in church. Even 
The cover's decked with lilies of our town. 
Marco. 

Alas, our Guelphic lily's red with blood — 
111 omen for the Florentines to-day. 
DiNO. [At window looking into the street.} 
Here is a fellow making mouths at me. 
[Fro7n the street outside a clownish fellow 
has approached, and endeavors to ex- 
press himself in pantomime.'] 
Francesca. 

Ho! ho! There's nothing strange in that, 
good uncle! 
DiNO. {Watching through the window.} 
He waves his hand, and motions toward the 
door. 
GiOVANNA. [Approaching the window, look- 
ing out and laughing.} 
And lovingly he strokes the bars. In faith 
He must be Gita's lover. 



78 Dante Act II 

Francesca. 
Glad GIta ! 
[They laugh.] 
Gemma. 

What a scare-crow. He sniffs food in th'air. 
For now he peers into the kitchen window. 
Francesca. 

Hush ! Let's watch. He's moving nearer. 
Come, Vanna. 
[They all run off to street through rear.] 
DiNO. [Turning, and finding them gone.] 
Vanished! Upon my soul, 'tis witchcraft. 
The room was full of petticoats — and now 
Not a shred of one remains. 
Falco. [Who has been talking with Dal 
Colle and Marco.] 

Good Dino, 
Is some stranger needing help? 

DiNO, 

Methinks 
'Tis but a witless fool seeking some dinner. 
[Re-enter ladies^ with laughter, pushing in 
a clown.] 
Francesca. 

Good host, solve us this riddle, if thou canst. 
Falco. 

Speak, fellow, what brings thee here? 



Act II Dante 79 

Clown. 

A lady. 

DiNO. 

No lady would own thy legs, and 'twas they 
That brought thee hither. 
Marco. 

Speak him fair. Good fellow, 
What lady? 
Clown. [Scratching his head.] 

I know not. 
Gemma. 

Was she fair, or 
Was she dark? 

GlOVANNA. 

Tall or short? Canst not describe 
her? 

[Clown shakes his head.] 
Francesca. 

Were her words lagging, or did she speak 
with wit? 
Clown. 

She'd wit. She sent me here. 
[Laughter,] 
Falco. 

Upon what errand? 
Clown. 

'Twas thee she wanted. 



8o Dante Act II 

Falco. 

Yet canst not tell how she was featured? 
Clown. 

She had a nose. 
Francesca. 

By San Giovanni, thou hast much observed. 
Clown. 

She said to me, * Now haste thee, lad, to 
Falco,' 
[All listen.'] 
Clown. 

And told me where the house stood, and — 
Fm here. 
Falco. 

What wanted she with me? 
Clown. [Slowly.'] 

She said ' Make haste.' 
Gemma. 

Some dame hath lost her heart to thee, Ser 
Falco. 
Clown. 

The lady said he must return with me. 

Francesca. 

Grey beards find favor In fair lady's eyes. 
Haste, young Falco, O, haste to keep this 
tryst ! 



Act II Dante 8 1 

Marco. 

A madcap's prank, perchance. 
Falco. 

Or purblind beldame 
Craving help. 
Clown. 

Ay, help's the word. 
Marco. 

Come, speak out ! 
Tell all thou knowest, poor fool. 
[Clown stares stupidly.^ 
Falco. 

Was't to help 
Someone that's ill? 
CtOWN. [Brightening.] 

Ay, 'tis that — to help her. 
Francesca. 

Who? 
Clown. 

The other lady. 
GlOVANNA. 

Which other lady? 

Clown. 

She said * haste.' 
Marco. [Gently.] 

Now, which said * haste'? 



82 Dante ^Act II 

Clown. 

The well one. 
Falco. 

Some ailing soul hath sent the lad for me. 

[Calling.] 
GIta ! My staff ! And give this fellow food. 
I must fare forth with him to find his sender. 
Francesca. 

And In thy train weUl follow to pry out 
What lady needs thy help. 
GlOVANNA. 

And then meet Bice 
The fairest bride in Florence; dl Bardi 
Must treasure her. 
Francesca. 

He doth; he worships her. 
Alas! poor Dante — he fares ill these days. 
GlOVANNA. [To Falco.] 

A son-in-law of whom thou mayst be proud. 
Falco. 

Thanks, Vanna ; I know dl Bardi's value. 
Francesca. 

A greater son-in-law thou couldst have had. 
Falco. 

This one suffices. 

[GiTA brings Falco's cloak, etc.] 
But come, we'll now away. 



Act II Dante 83 

Francesca. 

Ay; we'll all go with thee. 

DiNO. 

And who with me? 
Francesca. 

Thou dost not merit goodly company, 

Scoffing at love, and laughing saints to scorn ; 

So, while we flock to church, go get a witch, 

And with her ride a broomstick to the moon I 
Gemma. 

The sun, alack, shone hotly as we came; 

I fear to venture out at noon, Ser Falco. 

I'd rather tarry here for Beatrice. 
Falco. 

Ay, Gemma, rest; my maids will wait on thee. 
Dal Colle. [Aside to Gemma.] 

Be cautious, Gemma. Use each golden mo- 
ment 

When thou hast Alllghlerl here alone. 

[Enter Pages and Gita, bringing staff and 
cloak and food for Clown.] 

Falco. 

The soldiers throng the streets, and crowds 

are stirring; 
Let Lapo bolt and guard the door, admitting 
None but our trusted friends till I return. 



84 Dante Act II 

[Many soldiers are seen among the throng 

outside. 1 
[Exit GiTA.] 

[Francesca locks arms with Marco and 
they start to go into the street.'] 
Francesca. 

Hall to the merry mummers, piping poets, 
And all the gay garbed Florentines to-day! 

GlOVANNA. 

And hail to Falco's dame of mystery! 
[They step out into the street.] 
[GiTA crosses to the window, opens the 
casement and looks out.] 
GiTA. 
There's DIno throwing kisses at a maid. 
Ay, wine and wenches are the only Aves 
And Paternosters in his devil's creed! 

[DiNO walks o)f.] 

[GiTA closes the window; takes up a dis- 
taff, and begins to spin, sitting back in 
the hall talking to Gemma. The holi- 
day crowd passes the entrance in the 
street. Dal Colle returns looking 
about till CoRSO appears. He taps him 
on the shoulder and they step aside near 
the doorway of Falco's house.] 



Act II Dante 85 

Dal Colle. 

Here 'mid the throng of Idle pleasure-seekers, 
Unwatched we'll coin our speeches undis- 
turbed, 
Weighing our words, so if there be false 

weight 
Among them, we can sift it out till naught 
But metal unalloyed Is left to cast 
Into our general treasury of thought. 
Vleri, as thou truly saldst, wins way 
Through ducats his commercial skill hath 
gained. 
CORSO. 

And, as a flagon of poor flavored wine 
Is highly named Its tastelessness to hide, 
So Cerchi's poverty of head and heart 
He seeks to cover with fine soldier names; 
But still the mud he's born In sticks to him. 
And let him call It battle-stain — ^what then? 
We all know mud from blood unless we squint 
With both our eyes, because one varlet cries : 
* This through thy scornful heart shouldst 
thou look straight.' 

{Touching his dirk.] 

Dal Colle. 

Yet Dante values CerchI — calls him just. 



86 Dante Act II 

CORSO. 

Ay, Dante, who, forgetting noble birth. 
Renounces rights he's heir to, enters name 
On register with leech and pothecary, 
So he may claim the privilege of guild', 
Mixing with herd he builds his hopes upon. 
'Tis no strange sight to see him fondle there 
One of that herd, who higher holds his head 
Than we, by dint of treading on the toes 
Of meeker men. Ay, Dante values him, 
And yet another sayer of small nothings — 
The Cavalcanti weakling, aping strength. 
Dal Colle. 

His poems do not lack in prettiness. 

CORSO. 

Nor lack they baseness. I will take my oath 
Such scurvy poet's rhymes, like beggar's garb, 
Are picturesque for being out at elbow. 
Dal Colle, these Bianchi — one and all 
Must writhe beneath our heels like trodden 
snakes. 
Dal Colle. 

But Dante still is ours. 

CORSO. 

Pray for how long? 
His growing power in Florence but begets 
The love of more; he lays aside his rank 



Act II Dante 87 

To gain the people's will — and then? Why, 

then 
He'll rule the despot o'er a cringing crowd. 
Dal Colle. 

And yet thou'lt help him to domestic ties. 
He'll marry Gemma — not our party, Corso. 

CORSO. 

I give him thus one chance in game of life. 
The barren peace that Gemma forces on me 
May bear no fruit but dead sea apples. 
Our schemes to win him to our cause may 

fail. 
The flag of peace, once flapped before my 

eyes, 
Is torn to shreds. Dante still pipes to fools. 
I wish our swords might pin to earth to-day 
Guido and Marco treading in his wake. 

Dal Colle. 

If Marco'd join our cause, his gold were ours, 
But he doth linger on the threshold still, 
Baffling our aims by his vile stubbornness, 
Though I have given him my child for wife, 

CORSO. 

He openly hath taken sides with Dante, 

A third of Florence echoes to his call. 

Let us complete to-day what oft hath failed. 



88 Dante ^Act II 

Dante and Guldo must be foiled: Marco 
Must join the common cause — be ours, or die. 
Dal Colle. 

Shall I forget he's Cesca's husband, Corso? 

CORSO. 

A curse upon his kinship If It block 

Our way to better things; so let him bleed. 

Better his death than our sore defeat. 

{A crowd of young men enter and roughly 

jostle the holiday crowd.'] 
[CoRso signs to Dal Colle to come with 

him. They depart. 1 
[Enter Dante and GuiDO with retainers. 
Crowd greets them. They pause as a 
scuffle occurs,] 
Street Cries. 

Now Nerl ! To the wall with the BlanchI ! 
Nay! BlanchI I BlanchI! Down with the 
Nerl! 

GUIDO. 

Hark to the sounds that celebrate to-day! 
Dante. 

Such brawlers' din Is e'er the matin hymn 
And evensong of Florence In these times. 
As downy chicks, surprised by sudden sound, 
Seek shelter swift beneath their mother's 
plumes, 



Act II Dante 89 

So do my scattered thoughts, fearing great ills 
Befall my town, gather beneath the wings 
Of my great love, to brood in silence there. 
These turmoils weigh upon my soul, dear 

friend, 
These feuds must end or else our City^s 
doomed. 

GuiDO. 

It's Corso's damned Neri I 

Dante. 

And Guido's Bianchl. 

GuiDO. 
Would'st spare the assassin and see Corso 
Sheathe in my breast his knife ? I deemed till 

now 
That our just Dante valued life of friends. 

Dante. 

That I do love thee Is an old, old song 
Unto thine ear; that I hate Corso Is 
No newer one; but justice claims Its due 
Ere friendship, Guldo. For our city's good 
We should preach peace, and peace, and ever 
peace. 

GuiDO. 

A poet's dream is never statesman's craft; 
Whose party's zeal must color all his acts. 



90 Dante Act II 

Dante. 
A patriot's zeal should be his country's, too. 
Ill blood 'twixt neighbors splits most honest 

skulls, 
Destroying wantonly, homes, rich and poor, 
Till 'stead of cheery mart and street, we gain 
Gardlngos * to our cost. I would these jars 
Were at an end, and private Interests merged 
Into a self-forgetting, noble love 
Of Florence and our Italy, for both 
Should claim our love and lives. As God Is 

one. 
And Nature one and Mankind one, so should 
Our Nation be but one In speech and thought. 
Then from our Unity would others grow. 
Till Europe, merging to a mighty whole, 
Could challenge continents o'er all the 

earth — 
Supreme in her united strength and love. 

GuiDO. 

Thy words change thoughts of mine to throb- 
bing deeds 
That long lay hid In crannies of my soul, 
Like fern seed In the crevices of ruins, 
Starting to life when touched by genial light. 

*Gardingos was a place laid waste by both factions. 



Act II Dante 91 

Dante. 

All dormant good bursts Into bloom when 

reached 
By glory of the Eternal * Who all moves. 

GuiDO. 

O! ever thou art poet first, then patriot. 

Dante. 

No ! lover first, and when I near this house 
That shelters my beloved liege lady, faint 
I grow — rny swaying knees scarce bear me up. 

[Dante takes Guido's ar7n, and they 
cross to the house as GiTA goes to the 
casement. 1 

GiTA. [Looking out of the window.'] 

Here come the poets — our grave Dante and 
His faithful Cavalcanti. 

[Turns and calls.'] 
Hi! Lapo! 

[Addresses the poets who have reached the 
door.] 

Patience, good Sers. The knave will open 
for you. 
[Lapo enters and unbolts the door for 
Dante and Guido.] 

* Vide Paradiso, Canto I. 



92 Dante Act II 

[Enter Dante and GuiDO, with their fol- 
lowers.'] 
GiTA. [To the poets as they enter.] 

Honored Sers, I crave your pardon for delay. 
Ser Falco, but a moment gone, will soon 
Return. So will the Donna Beatrice. 
Dante. [To Gemma.] 

Glad San Glovannrs Day to thee, Madonna ! 
[Gemma bows in silent acknowledgment.] 
[ToGiTA.] 
Good GIta, how fares my sovereign lady? 
GiTA. 

Her step still weak, yet did she go to Mass. 
Methought It was a risky thing to do. 
Command me, Ser, while waiting for the mas- 
ter, 
Should you need wine or sup. 
GuiDO. 

Thanks, Gita — thanks. 
Dante. 

Madonna Beatrice's sacred zeal 
Has led her 'mid a crowd of rioters 
Too boisterous for such gentle graclousness. 
Gemma. 

She'll soon return. I felt myself too faint 
To mix with such a jostling crowd abroad. 



Act II Dante 93 

GUIDO. 

Thou dost look pale. Did Vanna go with 
Falco ? 

Gemma. 

Ay, and Cesca, too. TheyVe bringing Bice 
home. 

Dante. [Courteously.l 

Have these warm days already wearied thee? 
Corso should send thee to the mountains, 

where 
The breezes redden cheeks, like generous 

wine. 

GUIDO. 

Dante's prone to prowling, on the crags. His 

muse 
The sweeter sings, the nearer to the skies. 

Dante. 

To stand and see great cities 'neath one's feet, 
Vast plains and valleys reaching east and west, 
With distant mountains rearing purple peaks. 
Makes man feel humble in his littleness. 
And puerile the endless strife for wealth, 
Of all these battling human ants below. 
A long, deep breath of pure, unsullied air. 
Sharp with the freshness of the snows revives 



94 



Dante Act II 



The soul, strengthens the heart. A great, 

sweet calm 
Comes o'er the soul. Madonna Gemma, hie 
Unto the mountains. 
Gemma. 

Alas, their calmness 
Would not allay my spirit's restlessness. 

[GuiDO hns opened a hook and is reading 
by the casement.'] 
Dante. 

Too young and gracious art thou, fair Ma- 
donna, 
To meet aught In this life to cause thee pain. 
Gemma. 

'TIs pain and joy commingled; such sweet 

sorrow 
As spurs thy pen to write its sweetest songs. 
Dante. {Surprised.'] 

If love has prest a thorn Into thy heart. 
Fear not, for when withdrawn, 'twill burst In 

bloom 
And crown thee with Its roses. 
Gemma. 

Nay, nay, alas! 
Dante. 

A young and fair DonatI will never lack 
For ardent wooers. 



Act II Dante 9^ 

Gemma. 

LfOve does not alway answer love's appeal. 
We women often love where we're unsought. 
Dante. 

My sex must stand disgraced, if thou art left 
To sigh for unresponsive love, Madonna. 
Gemma. 

Thy gentle sympathy Is balm to me. 

[She turns to attendant who has been con- 
versing with GiTA.] 
We will await the lady Beatrice In her room. 

[To Dante and Guido.] 
A short farewell, Messer poets. 

[Exeunt Gemma, attendants and Gita.] 
Dante. 
The maid is pale. May San Giovanni send 
Her love to color all her life with joy. 
O, San Giovanni, how June's gracious days 
Grew bare when they brought sickness to my 

love — 
The fragrant flowers seemed to lose their 

scent. 
And blue to fade from out the sapphire sky, 
The sun to lose Its potency. The world 
Became to me a place engulfed In woe. 
Guido. [Joining Dante.] 

Sink not beneath mishaps, as travellers sink 



g6 Dante Act II 

Beneath the blinding snow on Switzer heights, 
Lying like clod benumbed, a senseless weight. 
Till fatal slumber slips, unmarked, to death. 

Dante. 
When Beatrice suffered, life seemed death 
To me, who lived but in her light. Alas, 
Why was I reft of power to see my lady 
When fever shook her tender frame? I'd 

fain 
Kneel at her feet, kiss tears off silken lash, 
As Phoebus kisses dew from grass at dawn ; 
With love soothe pain, and for her spend my 

strength. 
Blest was the lowliest wench to wait on her. 
I could, alas, but stand aloof and sigh. 

GuiDO. 
As thou hast ever played a conqueror's part 
Through bloodiest frays, so bravely face 
love's war. 

Dante. 

Prate not to me of love; prate not of war. 
I have no heart to face love's cruelties. 
A dire presentiment o'ershadows me. 
This boasted strength of mine may fall me 

sadly. 
Some haply find their courage born full- 
grown, 



Act II Dante 97 

Like Pallas from Jove's front, to suit the hour, 
While others find their bravery but babe 
• When chance may give it birth; so found I 
mine. 
It sorry suckling proved when 'mid the strife 
I first drew blade and fought at Campaldlno. 
Corso then showed he was a soldier born. 
Like birds, men stricken fell 'neath archers' 

aim; 
Rotella and Parvesa shields v/ere pierced 
By trusty lance, smooth swords smote skull- 
caps through; 
While foremost In the ranks rode Feditori ! 
With cry of * Cavalieri ! ' or * Narbonne ! ' 
When wild came answer back from Aretines 
And Ghibelllnes the cry of ' San Donato ! ' 
Then grew my courage at a breath — a man — 
And fast coursed heated blood through swol- 
len veins. 
We met our foes as wave would break on 

wave, 
Our blows and bodies mixed in bloody whole. 
Fierce raged the fight, dense dust dimmed 

light of day, 
Till sun was but a red blot in the sky, 
And through the murky gloom crawled ser- 
pent-like 



98 Dante Act II 

False Ghibelllnes to reach us unawares 

Beneath Palfreni and Ronzoni, where 

They wound themselves and with long knives 

ripped up 
Poor brutes, who writhing fell and brought 

to earth 
Their gallant riders. 

Corso Donati, still 
Obedient to his chief, impatiently 
Had watched the field — now as spectator 

stood 
No longer. * Men,' cried he aloud, ' are we 
To look thus tamely on, so we may pour 
In ears of Florentine the dismal tale 
Of this day's dread defeat and comrade's 

death? 
Or must I risk my head to save the day? 
Let us but charge, and if we fail we die 
With brothers bravely; or, if victory 
God grant us, I, for disobedience, then 
The penalty will pay, and let who will 
Come to Pistoria for my head.' 

These words 
Scarce said, when he and his two hundred 

knights 
Dashed deep into the fight. Guido Novello, 



Act II Dante 99 

The Ghibelllne's brave Bishop's hope, first 

stayed, 
Then fled. The priestly soldier saw all lost, 
And we at last sought death in one mad 

charge ; 
The day was ours ! Ah, had we pushed our 

steps 
On to Arezzo then, our blades still wet, 
Would well have forced an entrance to the 

town. 
Delays are dangerous, e'en to conquerors. 
For hours are sharpest weapons to thinking 

foes. 

Faster than spider's web are spun fresh hopes, 
Fresh plots and plans, by busy brains, while 

winds 
Are drying drops on sword and helm and 

lance. 

Unless through lengthened reign of peace it 

comes. 
The rust that dims knights* arms dishonoreth 

souls. 

Faith ! Campaldino's battle taught me more 
Than all the lore of chivalry I learnt 
Through youth.* It was a glorious fight. 

* Vide Napier's Florentine History. 



100 Dante Act II 

GUIDO. 

Why sigh 
As If to thee a twelve months' lapse from war 
Seemed centuries? Art warrior more than 

poet? 
Dante. 

My prisoned sighs burst forth from darkened 

heart 
Like slaves long pent up In cold cells ; but war 
Was not the jailor that undid their bars. 
*Twas love who broke their chains — opM wide 

the door. 
The thought that I could prate of fight long 

past 
When light of one fair star doth wane apace, 
Brought contrite heaviness unto my heart. 
GuiDO. 

Sweet Beatrice oft Is 111, 'tis true, 

But herbs and potions will restore her 

strength. 
Dante. 

The jealous angels hover near her couch; 
The rustle of their wings is In my ears; 
But once these arms enfold her as my bride, 
My love will fetter her to earth till time 
Hath gently weaned us from warm, joys of 

earth, 



Act II Dante ioi 

And sobered us to thoughts of heaven alone. 

GuiDO. 

But she's di Bardi's bride. 

Dante. 

Mine is her heart, 
And mine she is in life here and hereafter. 
The little songs I sing of her to-day- 
Are prelude to the greatest poem I'll pen 
To glorify her name — her saintly love 
Will send me wondrous visions, never seen 
By mortal men — Hell's gate shall ope to me 
And Purgatory's painful path shall lead 
My weary steps to Paradise, where 'mid 
The shining throng, Beatrice near the throne, 
I'll find a sun above the stars of heaven. 

[Marco is seen in the street coming hack 
to the house: GuiDO at the casement sees 
him and waves to him.] 

GuiDO. 
Here's Marco, amorously sad, while parted 
E'en for an hour from his se'ennight bride. 

[One of his retainers opens the door — enter 
Marco in haste.] 

Dante. 

What stirring news hangs on thy tongue, 
Marco? 



I02 Dante Act II 

Marco. 

The swords are clashing once again In Flor- 
ence : 
I passed the brawlers as I hither came. 
Another riot, born this morning, hangs 
On tongue and town. Each faction lights Its 

rival. 
With his slight escort, Falco pushed his way. 
Like frightened pullets In a sudden shower, 
The women scurry home. 
Dante. 

And whither Falco? 
Marco. • _ 

He swore he'd reach the church and Beatrice. 
Dante. 

HeM reach the church ? What meanest thou ? 

More lies 
Behind thy speech. Out with th' assassin 

thoughts 
That lurking 'neath thy words, clasp cold, 

keen knives 
To stab me through and through the soul. 

Come forth, 
O murderous thieves, to kill my rest, steal 

strength ; 
Better to face worst foe than live In dread 
Of ambushed ills. Speak out thy fears. 



Act II Dante 103 

Marco. 

They say 
That Beatrice swooned while in the church — 
Is like to die. 
Dante. 

To die — no, no — not yet ! 
My Beatrice must not die ! Though all the 

hosts 
Of white-winged souls and halo-crowned 

saints 
Hymn their enthralling welcomes to her ear, 
My love must charm her back to earth again. 
To die — to lie forever hid from eyes 
That live but for her beauty. No, not yet I 
GuiDO. 

So runs the rhyme around life's vestment hem. 
The words * not yet ' are woven into fibre 
Of fleshly robe we don at natal hour. 
* Not yet * and still ' not yet ' is clearly read 
E'en in our life's old rags. 
Dante. 

She can not die 
Till I have sung my lady's fame to heights 
Untouched by poets yet of any age. 
GuiDO. 

Can sparrow's chirps keep back the floods of 
heaven ? 



I04 Dante Act II 

Can aspen's trembling stop the thunderbolt? 

Can man's weak moaning stay one dart of 
death? 

Dante, where hides thy loved philosophy? 
Dante. 

Go ask the cautious snail when earthquakes 
rend 

The meads and mounts, where lies his trusty 
shell. 
GUIDO. 

Friend, friend, must all thy future dreams 
end thus? 
Dante. 

I have no future If my lady dies! 

Shall worms wax fat beneath her coffin lid 

Upon her dainty limbs? No — no — O God! 

She must not die. 

{Sits with his head buried in his hands.'] 
Marco. 

Dante, arouse thee from thy dreams of love. 

As patriot arise, there's harm afoot. 

One of my men o'erheard some private speech 

Of enemies who doom thy friends to death, 

Defeat to all thy plans, and banishment 

For thee — 
Dante. 

A plot to drive me hence ! They'll fall 1 



Act II Dante 105 

But through their knavery, my tenure then 
As Prior may be short, yet long enow 
To hold rebellious Florence In my grasp. 

GUIDO. 

This means cursed Corso's work. O Dante, 

act! 
Surround him and his men while In the streets 
And trap the crafty vulture in a net. 
Dante. 

In the open men must snare great quarry: 
Treachery Is poor stepping-stone to honor. 

[He takes out Ms tablets and writes on 
one.] 

Marco. 

Wilt see us murdered? 
Dante. 

Florence will judge these men: 
My wise colleagues, the Priors, loathing 

feuds, 
Are .weighing means to end these senseless 
brawls. 

[Holding tip tablet."] 

This summons them to meeting in the Square. 
Then the will of Florence ye shall know from 
me. 



io6 Dante Act II 

[He hands the tablet to some of his men 
with a few words aside. The men leave 
instantly.] 
'Twill take most active heels and subtle brains 
T' outwit Durante Alllghleri ! 
GuiDO. [At window.] 

Thy hawks are off, soaring as for a prize, 
They'll cleave the crowd, and soon be flutter- 
ing back. 
[Enter Francesca Nerli, Giovanna and 
ladies and DiNO and Gemma Donati 
and attendants.] 
Dante. [Rises, and hurriedly meets them. 
The ladies surround him.] 
What news, Giovanna ! Speak I 
Giovanna. 

Would that to-day had never dawned, Guido ! 
Francesca. 

Ill, and no one nigh I 
Ladies. 

Alas, sweet Bice! 
Dante. [Impetuously.] 

Resolve these sentences to sense. Speak out ! 
The truth — where is Madonna Bice ? Speak ! 
Francesca. 

When she fell fainting in the church, the 
crowd 



Act II Dante 107 

Waxed great. Her father's men cleared 

space around; 
One of her women sent the clown to us. 
Little we recked 'twas Bice needed help, 
When with a jest we sallied forth to her. 
Dante. [Laying a hand on DiNO's arm.^ 
Dino, the truth — Beatrice — -. 

DiNO. 

Fear not; 

No harm befalls her In the church. Her 
maid 

Awaited us beneath a porch near by. 

The street, Impact with battling, raging men, 

Placed barrier betwixt us and our goal. 

So Faico shouted through the surging crowd : 

* Haste thou and house the women; then re- 
turn 

With men to bring our Beatrice home.' 

Dante. [To Lapo and men who are coming 
in.] 
Arm yourselves. Fellows, haste I Get arms 

— we must 
To Falco. Haste! 

Lapo and Others. 

Ay, we'll get arms. Both legs 
And arms are at our master's service. 



io8 Dante Act II 

Dante. [Imperiously.] 

Haste! 
[Exeunt Lapo and men. Dante takes 
sword from wall, which he examines. 
Also, a dirk.] 
Gemma. 

day of woe ! 
Francesca. [To Marco.] 

O, If my love Is dear to thee, stay here ! 

1 do Implore thee go not into Florence. 
Marco. 

If Florence were a maid and I most false 
Thou couldst not speak of her more jealously. 
I must get men and join the Priors and Dante. 
Fear not, sweet spouse, I'll be with thee anon. 
[He embraces her and goes out.] 

Francesca. [To Dante.] 
O Dante, use thy power to end these feuds. 
Thou swayst our town ; stir It to better Issues. 

Dante. 

Ay, we need men to rule with Iron hand. 
To quell the strifes that ruin the city's 

strength. 
These sad divisions mine our party's force, 
Like glacial cracks, which split the avalanche 
That had resisted centuries of storms; 
By Its Internal parting rent at last . 



Act II Dante 109 

From lofty mountain once It proudly crowned, 
And In Its fall annihilates itself, 
As well as country that It falls upon. 
In vain we call on patron saint, St. John, 
And trust him as defender of our town, 
While In our hearts are lingering bitter hates 
Proclaiming us still worshippers of Mars, 
Whose statue yet adorns the Ponte Vecclo. 
Gemma. [Aside.] 

Now let my woman's will beat down my 

fears, 
And like a conqueror o'er-rlde my heart. 
Till I have played my desperate part to-day. 

{Approaches Dante.] 
[Aloud.] 

And must thou go with Falco's men ? 
Dante. 

Could I 
Wait here, not knowing how my lady fares? 

[Impatiently.'] 
Where linger those base knaves? We must 
away! 
[Re-enter Lapo and men, armed.] 
At last! Now forward! Haste to join thy 

master. 
And fight for him as if, by San Giovanni, 



no Dante Act II 

Thy soul's salvation hung on each sword 
thrust. 
The Men. 

By the three kings we swear It, we swear it I 
Dante. 

Away I 
[Gemma starts to follow him. Exit with 
men.] 



Curtain 



ACT III 

Church of San Giovanni: Vacca Tower in the 
distance. The Square is full of holiday seek- 
ers — some already quarrelling. On the right 
two nobles sit playing chess. On the left, peo- 
ple are gathering. There are citizens^ soldiers, 
an ass driver selling milk, a charlatan calling 
his wares, hoys playing hazard with dice. 

Charlatan. 

Come, come ! Be thine own apothecary. 
Hoi Presto! Try but the breadth of fly's 

wing 
Of this magic salve, and mend thy bones; 
Rub but a gnat's weight of it on thy bald head 
And lo ! Thou'lt have an avalanche of hair. 
[Charlatan himself is bald.] 
First Citizen. 

Body o' Bacchus I thou hast not tried it, then. 
Upon thyself! 
Second Citizen. 

Faith, the bear needs his own grease. 
Charlatan. 

Doth thy wife, blackbeard, keep the street 
awake 

III 



1 1 2 Dante Act III 

With loud, unseemly clamors In the night? 
Oil but her tongue with this — I'll promise 

thee 
The chatter will cease. 
Second Citizen. 

'Twould be a charity 
To use his salve upon his chattering tongue. 
Charlatan. 

And kinder still, to use it on thy wit. 
A Peasant. [To Charlatan.] 

Is't good for earache, for that doth plague 
me much? 
Charlatan. 

Ay, and for the tooth and stomach ache, old 
man. 
{He sells some.] 
First Citizen. 

ril try the varlet's wares to test his words. 
Charlatan. 

Doth memory fail — but rub this on thy tem- 
ples, 
And thou'lt recall what happened ere thy 
birth. 
Ass Driver. 

Now, surely, as the devil hath a tail, 

Thou must be rubbing thine own temples well 

To recollect all thy long-winded jargon ! 



Act III Dante i i 3 

[Crowd closes arpund CHARLATAN.] 

\^A lady enters and passes the chessplay- 
ers.'] 

{A hoy is nailing NoBLE^S cloak to the 
bench on which he is sitting.] 

Lady. 

Greeting, good Ser, greeting to our friends. 
[Noble attempts to rise, but is held fast 
by the cloak nailed to the bench.] 
Lady. 

Still thou sittest; thou hast no manners, man. 
Noble. 

In vain I try to rise, by San Giovanni! 
Lady. 

I prithee swear not. Tho' thy tongue rapped 

out 
In good round oaths the name of every saint, 
Thy sophistry would not convert my logic. 

[Noble springs up, leaving part of cloak 
fast.] 

Noble. 

Madonna ! Thou seest my cloak was caught. 

A nail, 
A sinning nail kept my legs laggard. Now 
Thou dost not think I would not rise for thee ? 



114 Dante Act III 

Lady. 

I think — ^what matters what I think? Good- 
day. 
[Exit Lady.] 
First Noble. 

Ay — but the nail — 
Second Noble. 

Ay, ay, butt it, butt it. 
First Noble. 

Thou cursed spike, to spoil both cloak and 
temper ! 
Second Noble. 

And game. Who played this churlish trick? 
First Noble. 

Ay, who? 

[He looks round at hoys near him.] 

Knowing, his inch of iron I would pay 
By promptly putting in his hide some steeL 
First Lad. 

'Twas he who nailed thy coat. 
Second Lad. 

Thou liest! 
Third Lad. 

Thou liest. 
As all the Neri do. Take that I 
[They fight.] 



Act III Dante 115 

A Citizen. 

Fair play, 
Ye scurvy Bianchi ! 
First Lad. 

Ho! Out on ye there, 
Ye unwashed Neri! 
Second Lad. 

He's hit— ho ! he's hit ! 
A Citizen. 

Smite him from crown to sole, thou halting 
fool! 
Second NoblEc 

'TIs one more grasshopper down in the dust ! 
First Noble. 

Now, Neri, we Bianchi will teach ye courage ! 

[Enter CoRSO and Dal Colle and retain- 
ers. CoRSO and his men join in the 
scrimmage.] 

Dal Colle. [Aside.] 

sin, conceived of fell temptation, 
And born of opportunity! In vain 

1 strive with thee. Seeming afar but shade 
Scarce worth the fighting; near, a substance 

foul. 
Most deadly real — a hydra-headed foe — 
A protean horror that entwines around me 



ii6 Dante Act III 

Cold, callous coils, till, strangjed, I must 

yield 
Its slave and victim, every sense its own, 
While hotter grows the stifling air about. 
Hell's breath seems seething up beneath my 

feet, 
And spirit voices echo — lost — lost — lost! 
Yet Marco's grown a deadly foe to-day 
And self-defense calls for his swift removal. 
[Enter messenger hurriedly and as he 
pushes his way through the crowd he 
calls o///.] 
Messenger. 
Put up your swords — ho ! peace the Priors 

preach — 
Put up your swords, the Priors come and sol- 
diers. 
[Exit.l 

[Some of the fighting stops: the Vacca he- 
gins tolling.'] 
First Citizen. 

List to the bell. The Vacca calls aloud. 
What means this hasty summons? What 

new wrongs 
Are we to right? What right to wrong 
again? 
[Enter more citizens.] 



'Act III Dante 117 

Second Citizen. 

'TIs noon; behold me Beppo Bianca here. 
My bales t'unpack themselves are idly left, 
And I wait to be asked why came I here. 
As yet the reason is as clear to me 
As addled egg to housewife. 
Third Citizen. 

Thine own pate 
Must addled be, if thou knowst not that 

Dante 
And the Priors are meeting here to-day. 
This message has been sent throughout the 

town. 
Ay, Dante^s wise and cares for th' common 
weal. 
Second Citizen. 

Ay, ay; he joined thy guild — most valiant 
Lapo. 
{Enter Marco and men; they join some of 
. the youths. CoRSo's men are pushing to 
the wall.] 
CORSO. 

How, Marco — art fighting for the Bianchi, 
When Cesca's father and her kin are Neri? 
Marco. 
A Guelph am I, and that's enow for me; 
And I defend a friend when he's attacked. 



ii8 Dante Act III 

Dal Colle. [Joining CoRSO.] 

Thou'rt traitor, Marco, to the common cause. 

[CORSO's and Dal Colle's men surround 
Marco.] 

Marco. [To Dal Colle.] 

What treachery Is this — Dal Colle — speak! 
CoRso. [To Marco.] 

One chance we offer thee — swear faith to us, 

Swear that from Florence we will exile Dante. 
Marco. 

As I loathe thee, I swear to loathe thine 
oaths. 
Dal Colle. 

No jesting, man ! 'Twixt life and death thou 
stand'st. 

Give us a yea, thou'lt live ; a nay, thou diest. 
Marco. 

Nay, though it meant for me a thousand 
deaths. 
CoRSO. ['striking him.'] 

One death thou'lt find sufficient for thy years. 
Marco. 

Traitors ! Not one true man amongst ye all ? 

CORSO. 

As true as steel when 'tis to slay our foes. 
[Marco is attacked from all sides.] 



Act III Dante 119 

Marco. [Wounded.] 

One sword 'gainst three. How brave the 
Nerl are! 
Dal Colle. [Striking him.'] 

Silence, thou whining dog. 
CORSO. 

Ay, silence him. 

[One of CORSO's men stabs Marco in the 
back.] 

Marco. [Falling.] 
Ye villains ! O, God be merciful to me ! 
Be merciful, ten-fold, to my poor Cesca ! 
[He dies.] 
[Cries outside.] 

Donati I 

Donati ! Down with the Blanchi I 
Allighieri ! 

Make way for Dante! 
A Citizen. 

There Dante comes to cow the fighting mob. 

[CORSO's men separate. Some shield from 
view Marco's body. Others attack 
Dante's and Guido's retainers as they 
rush in, followed by Dante and GuiDO 
Cavalcanti.] 



120 Dante 'Act 111 

GUIDO. 

Body o' Bacchus ! But some fists strike hard ! 
Dante. 

Art hurt, Guldo? 
GuiDO. 

No, no; my breath but failed 
For lack of space to breathe In 'gainst the 

wall. 
The shouting mob press on to reach the 

church. 
'Tis our own men at odds with Corso's crew ! 
Dante. 
And both are blocking road to Beatrice! 
On to church! Out of my way, ye varlets. 
[Gemma rushes in as CoRSO's 7nen menace 
Dante.] 
Gemma. 

O, save him ! Spare our Dante ! Though all 

Florence 
Were slain! O, Corso, take my life for his! 
[Gemma falls at Dante's feet.] 
Dante. 

Poor maid! Through fright her wits are 
wandering. 
CORSO. 

Art thou a wanton to proclaim thy love 

In public street? Hath Dante piped to thee 



Act III Dante 121 

In secret? Then go to him with my curses: 
Our roof no longer shelters such as thou ! 
[He thrusts at her and turns away.] 
Dante. 

Such villainy reaps bloody recompense. 
[Dante places Gemma in care of friends. 
TheUy with GuiDO, -presses up to church 
and enters.] 
[Enter Francesca with Giovanna and 
an attendant,] 
Francesca. 
Against all warning Marco's thrust his head 
Into the lion's jaw's, defying Corso. 
Giovanna. 

Have patience, Cesca. 
Francesca. 

Mine's gone with Marco. 
Corso. [Coming up to them.] 

Back, Madonna; we need no women here! 
Francesca. 

Till- solving my sore doubts, my weary feet 
Must pace the stones of Florence, though 

they burn 
The flesh from off my bones like heated 

ploughshares. 
There is a very cruelty in the air, 
A subtle sense of guilt and passion roused. 



122 Dante Act III 

O, let me to my father — 

l^She breaks away from CORSO and, seeing 

her father, rushes to Dal Colle who 

tries to turn from her. She clasps his 

clock and sinks upon her knees before 

him.] 
Francesca. 

Here at thy feet, 
In all my woman's helplessness, I fall, 
Still, still thy child, to plead as in the days 
When scarce my baby hands could reach thy 

knees, 
To plead for what to me is more than life — 
My husband — O, give me back my Marco! 
The crowd was yelping ye had come to blows, 
And though I know thy father love is shield 
For all thy daughter's wedded happiness. 
Still other hearts, more hardened, throng the 

streets. 
Father, one word from thee will spare, me 

pain. 
Speak — where is Marco? 

[Dal Colle turns away. She looks at 

CoRSO and sees a spot on his cloak.~\ 
[To CORSO.] 

There's blood upon thee! 
O, God— If Marco's 



Act III Dante 123 

[Francesca rises and through an opening 

in the ranks of CoRSo's men sees 

Marco's body. She rushes to the 

corpse and falls on her knees beside it.'] 

Francesca. 

O, he's wounded. Help 1 
My Marco, speak! Where art thou hurt? 

Look up ! 
Fm here — thy Cesca — here to tend on thee. 
We'll home, and there Fll nurse thee well 
again. 
[Francesca pauses and realizes he is 
dead.] 
Francesca. 

No — no — not that! Speak to me — Marco 

— speak ! 
One word — one little word! My love — my 

life! 
My Marco — God! Here with him let me 
die! 
[She flings herself on Marco's body.] 
Soldiers. [Entering.] 

Make room — give way! For the Priori, 

room! 

[Enter Priori. Corso's men draw up in 

front of Francesca and the corpse^ 

hiding them from view as Dante and 



124 Dante Act III 

GuiDO appear on the Church steps with 
Falco.] 
Street Cries. 

Down with the BlanchI ! Neri ! Neri ! 

Portlnarl to me ! 
Cavalcanti ! Cavalcanti ! 
Dante. 

We must disperse this crowd so Beatrice 
Can restfully be brought unto her home. 
Falco. 

And there, God willing, we can nurse her 
well. 
Dante. [To the People.'] 

*Peace! In Christ's name, peace! Have ye 

forgotten 
*The word first sounded in the shepherds' 

ears, 
*0n that first Christmas Eve? Not Honor, 
^Strength, Beauty, Wealth! — but peace! did 

angels sing. 
Put up your swords; let not your brethren 
bleed. 
{^Moh resumes shouting. Priori advance 
toward the Church,"] 
Dante. 

*Peace be with you ! This salutation was 

*D^ Monarchia. 



'Act III Dante 125 

* From our Lord Christ, for It behooved 

Him, 
*As our great Saviour, In this greeting 

sweet 
*To bless us with the best of blessings — 

Peace! 
Put up your swords — I say, put up your 

swords I 
Street Cries. 

Ay, peace I Peace! Put up your swords! 

Hear Dante! 
[Dante descends to the last steps of the 

church where the Priori meet him. 

Soldiers stand on guard."] 
Renewed Cries. 

Alllghleri! Dante Alllghlerl! 
Let's hear our poet ! — let Dante speak ! 
[Dante has been speaking to Priori 

aside, 1 
Dante. 

My friends, when I did ask that we should 

meet, 
'Twas for no Idle jest. We do not need 
Some strange new pageant — ^no gay lords of 

love 
With train of tinselled, white-robed votaries. 

*De Monarchia. 



126 Dante Act III 

Such joys belong to calmer hours than these. 

We need our grandsires' days when high 
dames spun 

In distaff glorying more than in their jewels; 

*When painted face was deemed a sore dis- 
grace, 

*And women for simplicity were loved; 

*When proudest noble clasped his cloak with 
bone, 

*And girded waist with leathern belt; when 
man 

*Felt not the want of rich habiliments. 

Possessions have their worth, but they are 
naught, 

Compared to virtue; think ye money bags 

Have handed honored names down to these 
times ? 

We learn that Socrates scarce owned three 
minae.** 

Would these few ducats satisfy our greed? 

Yet, are we wiser than great Plato's master? 

We need what served our sires — strong si- 
news — nerves 

Of iron, with brave hearts and unity. 

*Paradiso, Canto 15. 
** About $50. 



'Act III Dante 127 

Our town Is dally menaced by fierce foes: 
We must unite to-day within her walls 
If we would conquer enemies without. 
We must unite to show St. Peter's Vicar, 
That of the Church we are true sons; that 

ne'er 
*Is Florentine by quenched, inverted torch 
Sent to unhonored grave : Unite to show 
The rulers of the world, we hold our own. 
These party zeals are like the mountain 

streams 
That green the banks they touch, and turn 

the mills; 
Of use to farms and hamlets, but grander far 
As tributaries to some nobler river, 
That, bearing commerce on Its bosom, 

sweeps, 
Broad'ning Its lordly course to open sea. 
The Nerl, BlanchI, Guelph and Ghlbelllne 
May Influence some towns, but they should 

merge 
Into one mighty stream of thought and act, 
One grand, harmonious whole, one Italy, 
Bearing Its wealth. Its might, In glorious 

trumph 

* Persons excommunicated were buried with extin- 
guished and inverted torches. 



128 Dante Act III 

To the great tossing ocean of the world. 
If we would earn proud line In history, 
We must attempt the greatest conquest 

known — 
The conquest of ourselves. We come — to- 
day — 
Devising how we best can peace secure, 
For Florence, now with discord rent. 

{^Draws out a paper.^ 
And I with my colleagues this paper bring 
Here to be signed : an ordinance by which 
The inciters of these party feuds be banished, 
As baleful to the welfare of this town. 

CORSO. 

Banished? And who dares banish us? 
Dante. 

Thy speech 

Betrays thine own perception of the wrong 

Thou hast done Florence. 
Dal Colle. 

We can no more lay claim to our own souls, 

If one man's breath blows us without these 
walls. 
A Citizen. 

What say the Priors? 
CORSO. 

Ay, let them speak. 



Act III Dante 129 

A Prior. 

As spokesman for the rest, I do attest 
That we agree with Dante's reasoning. 
My name shall witness this. 
[He signs. 'I 
Other Priors. 

And mine. 
[Signs,] 

And mine. 
[Signs,] 
First Prior. 

And thus we hope to lessen future bloodshed. 
Dal Colle. 

Whose name stands written on that fateful 
list? 

CORSO. 

The Florentines should best decide who'll 

drink 
From foreign wells — who'll eat an exile's 

bread. 
Dante. 
The matter Is decided by the people. 

CORSO. 

Then needs no tremor shake these legs of 

mine ; 
The people's choice, the soldiers' friend, the 
man 



130 Dante Act III 

Who risked his head on Campaldino's plain 
For our town's sake, needs be her trusty 
friend. 
Soldiers. 

Ay, ay, thou art our friend. Long live the 
Baron ! 
GuiDO. 

[PFho has been talking zvith his men.'] 
Then long live strife, deceits and lying words. 
CORSO. 

Thou rascal! 
Dante. 

Your quarrel end without these walls. 
CORSO. 

What— I? 

GUIDO. 

I, Dante? 
Dante. 

Both of ye must hence. 
A Citizen. 

What ! Dante's friend share fate of Dante's 
foe? 
GUIDO. 

And thus does Dante prove his love for 
friends. 
Dante. 

Before the Paradise of friendship stands 



Act III Dante 131 

An angel with a mighty flaming sword, 
And ' Duty/ ' Justice/ are his warning words. 
Ere heart of mine can give one beat for thee, 
It needs must throb an hundred times for 

Florence. 
Yet — O, my Guido, if thou couldst but know 
How much my heart doth daily throb for 

thee, 
*Twould ease thy pain at turning face from 
home. 
Guido. 

Prate of thy love when thy acts prove that 
love. 
Dante. 

Necessity, not malice, prompts my acts; 
A mightier will than ours controls this day. 
'Tis Florence speaks, beseeching peace! 
'Tis Florence speaks, and In that name de- 
part! 
CoRSO. [Fiercely.'] 

Not I! The lily-livered poet may. 
Let Guido carol loveless odes beyond 
Our gates; but I remain. Fm planted here 
To stay by people^s will — 

[Murmurs among the crowd.] 
Ay, let them speak! 



132 Dante Act III 

People. 
We want the baron! Long days to Corsol 
We need Donati ! Never banish him ! 
GuiDO. {To the people,'] 

Behold your hero's work! A stab in the 
back! 
[GuiDO, aided by retainers, pushes aside 
the crowd that concealed Marco's body 
from view.] 
CORSO. 

At times, perforce, justice must stain our 
hands. 
GuiDO. 

Say ' hate ' 'stead ' justice,' as nearer to the 

truth, 
If truth can lodge near thee. 
Dante. [Seeing corpse for the first time,"] 
O, Marco murdered! 
[The murmuring crowd changes and now 
threatens CoRSO.] 
A Prior. 

There lies an honest man; true friend to 
Florence I 
A Citizen. 

The poor throughout the town will miss his 
dole. 



Act III Dante 133 

Second Citizen. 

Ay, banish the man who murdered Marco. 
Street Cries. 

Banish him! Banish Corsol 

Let the Priori banish him ! 
Dante. {Conquering his emotion.'] 

[ToCORSO.] 

Proud man-, we only banish thee from home. 
Beware thy sins exile thee not from Heaven ! 

CORSO. 

I fear not Heaven, nor hell, nor Church, nor 
devil ! 
And that I 

[Snapping his fingers.'] 

For thy short-lived authority! 
Dante. 

To kennel, cur! There gnaw thy rotten 

bones; 
Leave men alone.. A thing like thee knows 

not 
The love of home. And all thy country's 

woes 
Are less to thee than battling ants in sand. 
Thou only feelst what touches thy thick hide. 
*Justice and Mercy scorn to notice thee, 
*And men but throw a glance at thee and 
pass. 

*Dwina Comedia. 



134 Dante Act III 

[Guards seize CoRSO.] 
\^A Monk, with crucifix held aloft, comes 
out of the Church, Two ladies support- 
ing Beatrice follow. They pause and 
Beatrice sinks to the ground between 
them, GiovANNA joins them, Falco 
and Dante rush to her side.] 
Dante. 

Speak, Vanna, is Bice — nay ! nay ! be silent, 
Lest with thy words my heartstrings snap In 
twain ! 
Falco. 
O Beatrice, my fairest flower! 

[He bows his head weeping at her feet.] 
Giovanna. 

Ay, weep, Falco, weep, for nevermore shall 

we 
Be gladdened by sweet Bice's voice on earth. 
Dante. [Who has been gazing at Beatrice 
as though dazed.] 
Beatrice — Madonna — Beloved ! 

[He kneels beside her and tries to put his 
arms around her,] 
Giovanna. 

Stay, stay ! Intrude not on a father's rights. 
Dante. [Wildly.] 

Away ! there are no rights as strong as love's. 



Act III Dante 135 

She Is but mine, still mine — though dying, 
mine. 
GlOVANNA. 
Yet thine no more, unless thou'lt claim the 
dead. 
Dante. 

Dead! My Beatrice dead! My soul es- 
caped from me 
While still I live ! 
[He kisses Beatrice.] 
Dead! Beatrice! 
[He swoons.'] 

Curtain 



ACT IV: Scene L 

Entrance to a cemetery near Florence, Enter 
a hand of Pilgrims, chanting. They escort 
Francesca and Dante*s daughter, Bice, who 
are also in Pilgrim garb. The scene is in fad- 
ing twilight, 

Francesca. 

Beneath these sombre pines, my Bice, rest; 
Thy will o'erleaps thy strength, and far our 
goal. 
Bice. 

Though twice as far and high before me rose 
Range upon range of purple hills beyond 
That must be scaled ere Dante could be 

reached, 
And every step left crimson stain behind; 
rd gladly on, all toll as naught to me. 
When It win bring me to my father's side. 
Francesca. 

And all my steps are weighted with the 

thought 
Of mine. I am unfathered by grim deeds, 
Unsexed by treason, treachery and lies. 
Dal Colle's dead, with all his guilt upon him, 
136 



Scene I Dante 



137 



Without a moment spared for prayer, struck 

down 
Amidst the riot fostered by his friends — 
Bice. [Crossing herself.'] 
Pray for his soul, 

Forgotten be his sins. He was thy father. 
Francesca. 
And Marco, slain before his eyes lies there. 

[Indicating cemetery.'] 
The moment that we tarry here, I'll kneel 
Beside my Marco's grave. 
A Pilgrim. 

Madonna Cesca, 
Stay not too long, for night is falling fast. 
[Francesca and Bice enter the cemetery. '\ 
Second Pilgrim. 

Alas, that Dante's daughter 
Should find these times too perilous for home ! 
[Enter two Travellers.] 
First Traveller. 

Greetings, good pilgrims! Whither are ye 
bound? 
First Pilgrim. 

Away from here, to other stranger shrines. 
Second Traveller. 

We hasten to renew our love for Florence; 



138 Dante Act IV 

For twelve long months we loitered In far 

Spain, 
And now return to greet old friends again. 
Second Pilgrim. 

May Heaven grant you find your friends 
alive ! 
First Traveller. 
What mean ye? Has plague swept o'er the 
city? 
Second Pilgrim. 

A plague of ruffians, ruthless in their crimes. 
First Traveller. 

Our Priors — what do they? 
Second Pilgrim. 

Alas, the Priors 
Were driven forth when Corso ventured 

back! 
His speech Inflamed the soldiers, caught the 

people. 
Red riot ruled for days. A council then 
Was held, and Bianchi banished — Dante 
first! 
First Traveller. 

Dante! Durante Allighieri banished! 
First Pilgrim. 
O, fortune has not smiled of late on Flor- 
ence; 



Scene I Dante 139 

The city's rife with strife. Sedition breeds 

In every court. Peace-loving citizens 

Must leave. Their only safety lies In flight. 

First Traveller. 
This news to us bears tragic import, father. 

Second Pilgrim. 

My sons, betake ye to another town 
Until these feuds have spent themselves In 
blood. 

Second Traveller. 

To stand almost upon the threshold of 
Our homes and then turn back! 

First Traveller. 

Better than death! 

First Pilgrim. 
Or torture ! Corso spares nor young nor old 
Of those who favor Dante ! 

Second Traveller. 
We are loyal 
And could not turn his enemies. Alas, 
That Florence so repays the debt she owes 
Her greatest man! 

First Traveller. 

We will not wander far. 
But in some village bide till we can send 



140 Dante Act IV 

Some message unto friends. Farewell, good 

father, 
We crave thy blessing. 
Second Pilgrim. 

May the Lord protect 
Your journeylngs. Farewell. 
[Exeunt Travellers.] 
First Pilgrim. 

We may encounter 
More travellers to turn back upon the road. 
A Young Pilgrim. 

Is Rome to be our goal? Is Boniface 
The Bianchrs friend? Solve me this riddle 

now; 
Are we lost flies In priestly web, 
Or are we little spiders to be gorged 
On sacred Fly's domain ? 
An Old Pilgrim. 

I love not jests. 
Pm but a pilgrim, not a politician. 
To lapse into such idle sophistries. 

First Pilgrim. 

Those well-fed Politicians — woe to them I 
A starving ass is fairer sight to me; 
For, at his worst, the beast Is but an ass. 
While politician oft is ass and devil. 



Scene 7 Dante 



141 



Second Pilgrim. 

We are too near the blackened ruins of pal- 
aces. 
Dino, vile Corso's tool, doth spy abroad. 
Fagot and steel may lurk In every shadow. 
We must be gone! 

[Re-enter Francesca and BiCE.] 
So gentle ladles, come I 
Francesca. 

Ay, let us go. Farewell, thou fatal Flor- 
ence! 
Bice. 

Farewell, O beauteous Florence that Dante 

bore 
And yet rejects him from her breast at last. 
[Pilgrims pass out, chanting softly,] 
[Enter Uberto and Antonio, in monks' 
robes, carrying a bundle. They are fol- 
lowed by several young Noblemen.] 
Uberto. 

Here dwell at least some peaceful Floren- 
tines, 
Who seek no fight since last with death they 

strove. 
Here, side by side, they lie untroubled now. 
Though once they hotly clashed their hands 
to thighs, 



142 Dante Act IV 

And wrote with sword red answer to a scoff. 
The traitor years too swiftly steal our 

strength, 
And leave us barely time with trembling lips 
To say Amen to lifers short prayer. 
A Youth. 

Uberto, 
Why hast thou brought us to the Campo 

Santo? 
Why were we told to meet in council here? 
Uberto. 

I fain to-night would see my friends once 

more, 
Ere parting from my home. 
Youth. 

Is this farewell? 
Uberto. 

Lest evil days o'ertake two gentle pilgrims 
I follow in the friar's wake ; until 
Their Mecca's reached, I'll guard the wan- 
derings 
Of Cesca and Beatrice my liege lady. 
A lustrous sorrow crowns her loveliness. 
Betrayed by Boniface, betrayed by Florence, 
Her father roams a weary wanderer, 
Well nigh a beggar, through most parts 
where one 



Scene I Dante 143 

Melodious tongue is heard. Still proud and 

brave 
He challenges misfortune and bears its 

wounds ; 
Is driven by blasting breath of poverty 
To divers ports — a barque sans sails, sans 

rudder. 
I go to join our Dante. Will ye come? 
Antonio. 

I follow thee. My sword is thine till death. 
Uberto. [To the others.] 

What, none but we to join the banished 

Dante? 
Has he then spent his years in vain for you? 
Did he not sing to move your sluggish souls, 
Teaching the higher life for dally needs? 
'A Noble. 

And singing of Spring and happy lovers, aye 

Dante 
Was erstwhile yclept the baker^s happy poet. 
So friendly was he with the lower herd. 
Uberto. 

For shame to carp at foibles of the great, 

Be imitator rather of his virtues. 

And draw his shining robe o*er travel 

stains, 
He won in marching on to victory. 



144 Dante Act IV 

\_He draws his sword and holds it up.'\ 
Here solemnly I consecrate my life 
To highest knighthood, true to Dante's 

creed ; 
To be defender of all woman's honor, 
To succor weak and helpless, lead chaste life. 
Be true to friend and just to enemy. 
Fight for home, for Mother, Church and 

Florence, 
For unity in all loved Italy. 
A Noble. 

Uberto, thou art right; I'll follow thee. 
Several. 

I pledge to follow where our Dante leads. 
Uberto. 

Then cloak thine armor with these friar's 

robes 
To mingle with the pilgrim throng anon. 
[Uberto and Antonio open the bundle; 
they take out Monk^s robes. These are 
put on the young men.] 
A Youth. 

By the Holy Rood, I love adventure! 
Another Youth. 

And I a just revenge on some must take. 
Uberto. 

Forget thy private wrongs, forego thy hate, 



Scene I Dante 145^ 



Till with one voice we Florentines can cry 
Shouting defiance at all foreign rats 
Who gnaw Into the stronghold of our rights. 
For love of justice, not for sport we fight; 
As free men swear ye all to follow me, 
Pure, loyal knights vowed to a noble life. 

The Young Nobles. 

By the three Kings we swear It, we swear It ! 

Uberto. 

Hush, I hear a step. 

[ They conceal themselves. It grows dark. 
Enter CoRso, Donati and Three Fol- 
lowers.] 

CORSO. 

Art sure Uberto came this way to-night? 
A Follower. 

He left the city with a friend but now, 

And DIno said the. Campo Santo was 

Their trysting place. 
CoRsd. 

Ay, DIno serves me well 

As fox to watch this hunted lion's whelp. 

The price he asks is Beatrice's hand. 

Gemma, In safety housed, demands but peace; 

Uberto rears his youthful crest and crows 

Defiance to my will — this arrogance 



ii6 Dante Act IV 

Shall be stamped out, tho' Bice whines for 

him. 
But like a shell I'll grind him with my heel, 
Ashes and axe and flood, for all damned 

BlanchI 
My hand can reach — Uberto falls the first. 

[To a Follower.] 
Guard well that gate, lest he pass unawares. 

envious night, that hides my destined prey 
Still from my itching blade. The cursed 

fool! 
[Follower crosses to gate.] 
Not till my foot rests on his lying throat 
Can my hot thirsting for revenge be sated. 

Uberto. [Aside.] 

1 know 'tis Corso mutters, so beware I 
A skulking figure glided to the gate ; 

We are surrounded. Courage, friends, unite. 
And strike a blow to-night for liberty. 

[Aloud.] 
Are strangers here? 

[Uberto advances,] 

Corso. 

The cub comes to his doom. 

Uberto. 
A voice of friend or foe ? 



Scene I Dante 



147 



CORSO. 

Be that thy answer. 

[CoRSO strikes at Uberto.] 
[To his men.] 
Ho, fellows; scatter wide these praying saints. 
Uberto. [Fighting.] 

Each pilgrim's rosary to-night is steel. 

[The Young Men throw back their hoods 
and rush to the attack, Uberto wounds 
CoRSO, and a companion runs him 
through. Fight barely discernible in the 
dark.] 
CoRSO. 

O, death to reach me through a boy — a boy I 
[He dies.] 

[CoRSo's Men jiee.] 
Uberto. 

To thee our thanks to-night, most gracious 
Lord! 
\^All stand with bowed heads bared.] 
Now, onward, friends, and be our watchword 
' Dante; 
All. 
Ay, Dante I Dante! Dante I 

Curtain 



ACT IV: Scene II 

Ducal Palace at Verona, A large entrance 
hall; on one side steps lead out into the dusk 
of the Garden; on the right is an alcove with 
heavy tapestries, looped hack; in the alcove is 
a wide casement with a deep window seat. Ink 
horn and script lie on the latter. In the rear 
is a door leading to the street. 

The curtain rises on a group of pages sitting 
on the steps to the alcove with hawks fettered. 

Enter Jester and Giotto. 
First Page. 

My hawk much faster flies than thine; his 

eyes 
Shine like the jewel In the Ducal ring. 
Second Page. 

Mine faster flies — thou knowest It — mark 

this; 
How strong his wing; how sharp his beak. 
First Page. 

Like Dante's. 
[They laugh,'] 
Jester. 

Stealing my jokes? Hatch thine own eggs, 
Cuckoo. 

148 



Scene II Dante 149 

First Page. 

Nay, not thy jokes. They're stale as last 

year's fish. 
Who cracks thy nuts of wit, finds dust within. 

[Jester tumbles the Page over,'] 

Jester. 

There, lick the dust, thou most rampageous 
urchin. 

Second Page. [To Giotto.'] 

As friend of Dante, urge him smooth his 

scowls. 
The Prince 111 brooks the poet's moodiness. 

Giotto. 

Those scowls are born of base ingratitude, 
And triple crown of pain ; Beatrice's death, 
The failure of an embassy — then exile — 

Second Page. 
The. first was eased by Dante wedding 
Gemma. 

Giotto. 

Her brother's Infamy gave her to Dante, 
His heart Is In the grave of Beatrice, 
Though wife and babes and friends claimed 

e'er his love, 
-When- Dante first found haven In these walls, 



150 Dante Act IV 

*Each wish was granted ere he asked, but 

now 
Can Grande treats him oft less courteously. 
Page. 

The Princess wife may answer for such sin. 
Giotto. [Cautiously S\ 

Her Highness Is both wondrous, wise and 
fair. 
Page. [Laughing.'] 

And comprehends thy keen diplomacy. 

[Jester approaches Giotto with a low 
how.] 
Jester. 

Ho I High Day to thee I 
Thou puissant father of fat ciphers, hall I 
Hall to paternity of nothings I 
Giotto. 

Lies I 
Jester. 

Nay, truths, proud painter; didst not make 

thee great 
**WIth one round O? With cipher, zero, 

naught 
'Conceive It, fashion it and bring It forth ? 

* Divina Comedia. 
**Vide Appendix. 



Scene II Dante 151 

Shall not posterity swear by thine O? 

[Singing.'] 
Sing ho! 
Giotto's O 
Brought fame 
To his name. 
Giotto. 

Madonnas meek and holy children may 

[Crosses himself.] 
Keep Giotto's name alive some centuries; 
And may they, too, his body keep alive; 
We artists need to live like other folk. 
Jester. 

We jesters need to live like other folk. 
If brush and chisel warm and feed thee, jokes 
Are food and fuel for me. So room for the 
fool! 
[He turns away and dances a few steps to- 
ward the Pages.] 
First Page. 

'Tis time to feed the hawks, come Beppo, 
come. 
Jester. 
Ay, feed these majesties who rule this Court. 
[Exit, with Pages laughing.] 
Giotto. 

How all this royal roystering 



152 Dante ActlV^ 

Discordant falls upon one poet's ear — 
Can Grande has too diverse aims to-day, 
This statesman skilled and soldier bold, doth 

stretch 
Domains throughout the north, and holds 

the trust 
Of Vicar-General ; yet with friends he lays 
His rank aside and wastes whole days In pleas- 
ure, 
His love of learning shared with love of 
hawks. 

[Giotto seats himself and reads.] 
[Enter Dante slowly.] 

Dante. 

Most bitter are the tears that dew the bread 
Of beggary, spoiling each savory dish 
That's doled in charity, arousing thirst 
For satiate waters of sweet liberty. 

[Pause.] 
Ah, had I Midas' touch to turn these trees 
To glistening gold, I'd hew them limb from 

limb, 
And send them swift into the niggard hands 
That ope so slowly to remove my wants. 
They'd clasp these fast and firm, flinging as 
fuel 



Scene II Dante 153 

The golden boughs upon their household 

hearths, 
Feeding their fire of wanton luxuries 
With my hard gilded thanks. 

Down, down, thou dream 
To thy dominion, shared with silent sleep. 
What am I now to prate of gold? A stone 
That reckless rolls adown the hill of life; 
A feather tossed on winds of charity; 
A broken straw, scarce crediting the truth 
That once its stalk upheld rich golden grain. 
And proudly planted root in native soil. 
Gaunt visaged poverty, dull-eyed, lean- 
limbed. 
With shriveled skin, o'erlapping sunken 

paunch, 
And ribs like ridges in a ploughed field— 
Thou fearful spectre shadowing my steps. 
Where shall I turn to flee thy dread embrace? 
The laboring hind who delves his plot of 

earth 
Scarce heeds the spectral shade o'er threshold 

thrown, 
Save when crops fail and sickness steals his 

hoard 
Of hard-earned ducats, and at throat he feels 



154 Dante Act IV 

The tightening grip of want's cold hand and 

wakes 
Dreading the dawn will bring this ghost his 

guest. 
But foes, familiar, seem at length half 

friends; 
Old griefs in some lives grow to daily needs. 
Mixed with his crop of fears, a tender hope 
Buds slowly with a promise of fresh joy. 
And whispers Fortune's smiles may sun him 

out 
Of hurnble home into a larger sphere; 
But hath no pangs for proud prosperity 
He once enjoyed. He neither feels nor 

knows 
The anguish of regret o'er glory gone. 
Eating my vitals like the Spartan fox. 
My glutton grief still clamors for fresh food. 

O Beatrice! Only thy pure soul 

Can soothe my restless spirit's agony. 

One thought of thee drives sin and sorrow 

far. 
As morning sun dispels the summer mist. 
Out of my endless grief, a monument 
Shall rise, bearing thy name, to honor thee, 
Such as no woman ever had before. 



Scene II Dante 155 

And none shall ever know again on earth. 

[He stands absorbed in thought.^ 

Giotto. 

[Shuts his book, rises and crosses to 
Dante.] 

Still meditating on thy poem, Dante? 

How deep are thy thoughts digging into hell ? 
Dante. 

The hell I rhyme Is here. This earth affords 

The stuff from which one can create all hells. 
Giotto. 

Poor earth — the scape-goat of the preachers ! 
Dante. 

ThouVt right. The fault Is less the world's 
than man's. 

Mark Florence, how she weeps as slave, when 
she 

Might reign as Queen — through evils crushed 
to earth, 

Poisoned by vice ; the asp hid in her breasi:. 
Giotto. 

Hard words from townsman, Prior and Am- 
bassador. 
Dante. 

Erst all these things; but now a wanderer, 



1^6 Dante Act IV 

Bereft of children, wife and lands. Hast 
thou 

Forgot that I am banished, Giotto— Ban- 
ished ! 

Dost thou not know the meaning of that 
word ? 

To live forever out of sight and sound 

Of all we love; to bear a felon's curse; 

To tread all paths save one that leads to 
home; 

To live and die unloved, misjudged, un- 
blessed ! 

[Dante pauses.'] 

And have the children babble on the street 
That Dante stole, as Prior, public funds ! 
Giotto. 

That's the worst crime they could have forged 
on thee. 
Dante. 

What matters how the blow falls, so It comes? 
All sharpened swords behead, though one 

from Rome 
And one from Syria date — ^we die the same. 
Ay, theft and murder or arson let them 

charge, 
And rape and sacrilege — so I am banished, 



Scene II Dante 157 

What matters It by what foul means 'tis 

done? 
Though at the reckoning It may later count. 

Giotto. 

We need thee, Dante. Since thy exile, Flor- 
ence 
Is rife with knavery. Men, callous grown, 
Are flaunting out their sins In public high- 
ways, 
As lousy beggar grins In sun-warmed rags. 
And loathsome lepers count their hideous 

sores. 
Thy banishment was due to treachery. 

Dante. 

When wily Corso gained the PontIff*s ear 
It was BlanchI who sent me to Rome, 
Trusting that poet's wit and eloquence 
Could win the Holy Father's sympathy 
And favorable hearing for our cause. 
But Corso lingered, embassy being o'er; 
As midwife marks with silken skein the wrist 
Of elder twin lest he lose heritage. 
So marked he well with sacred cord of Rome; 
His love of power that twined It with his 

feint 
At patriotic zeal. He prayed aloud; 



158 Dante Act IV 

* ' When the Vale was sending to the Seven 

Hills 
Fresh fuel from the Forest to the Altar, 
Each stick of wood be an Isaac meekly bound, 
For sacrifice, as savory offering 
Unto the God of Justice'; but the Pope 
Suggested that in the Pontlfic thicket 
A ram might now be caught, a cause evolved 
To rivet rival factions' feuds, creating 
A stopgap for the leakage of his power. 

Giotto. 

By one weak act of clemency we saw 
Our gold in stranger hands, our houses razed. 
The Priors driven forth and Florence fired. 
May the Lord out of our future Paradise 
Keep Corso. 

Dante. 

Fear not, he's pledged to Hell already. 
Giotto, our enemies may laugh and gloat 
Over the blackened ruins of our homes 
And lord it grimly o'er our lands; yet free 
Beyond the traitors' grasp my kingdom lies. 

\_Touching his manuscript.'] 
To-day we weep the lost; to-morrow men 
Forget we lived. Peace to our ashes then. 

*Vide Appendix. 



Scene II Dante 159 

The vast tribunal of uncounted dead 

Dusts dancing feet of wantons; but fresh, full 

life 
Makes men forget all trace of past. My 

name 
May live — 
Giotto. 

Forever, Dante I 
Dante. 

Ay, 
Perchance as poet, that one reads in shade 
To carefully replace on silent shelf. 
For moths to flirt with and the dust caress. 
As man, with heart to bleed, who'll think of 

me? 
A shade 'mid shadows are we at our best 
Living or dead but shadows in the sun I 
Giotto. 

Thy shadow lengthens o'er all Italy! 
Bethink thee, friend, thou must exert thy 

power 
And sway the masses from thine exile roost. 
Dante. 

How win a waiting crowd afar be moved 
When men beside me fail to mark my words ? 
Can Grande feared for private ends to join 
The Imperial party, hence these petty feuds 



i6o Dante Act IF 

Still harass Italy since Henry's death. 
We need one sovereign hand to dominate 
These countless factions, striving each to rule. 
[Noise of kughing and talking is heard.'] 
I hear the buzzing of the courtly gnats; 
Stave off their Irksome presence, if thou canst. 
The scented twilight lures me to the garden. 
When dripping wax and torches light these 

halls, 
A myriad of fire-flies will flash their sparks 
Against the darkening pines, in rivalry 
Of winking stars that gem the blue above. 
So let the sunset deepen into night. 
Without my wearied presence at the Court. 
Giotto. 

Thy wishes, Dante, are commands to me. 
[Dante thanks Giotto with a gesture and 

goes into the garden^ by the steps.] 
[Enter Pages and Courtiers, followed by 
DiNO Brunini and Retainers.] 
A Page. 

A messenger for Dante Allighlerl I 
DiNO. [To Giotto.] 

So, Ser, we meet again. 
Giotto. 

As much good friends 
As when we parted. 



Scene II Dante i6i 

DiNO. 

Ser, I cry thee quits; 
The friendship was of thy conceiving then. 
For merrily your tongue wagged with your 

brush 
When limning Dante's features, and abuse 
Was e'er my portion. 
Giotto. 

I knew thee craven, 
Siding with Dante's enemies, and time 
Hath justified my scornful words to thee. 
Thou'st favored puddings more than politics, 
And wine and wenches more than Pater- 
nosters 
And daily Aves learnt in thy damned creed. 

DiNO. 

The artist's angered. Body o' Bacchus, Ser, 
Thou art but quicksand of false pride — pitfall 
Of seething passions; prickly hedge of tem- 
.pers ! 
Jester. 

'Tis sweet to note these doting doves con- 
verse ! 
Giotto. 

What is thy errand here, Ser Dino? speaK. 

DiNO. 

I bring from Florence message unto Dante. 



1 62 Dante Act IV 

Giotto. 

I put no credence in such embassy. 

DiNO. 

All prejudice, good neighbor — prejudice. 
Giotto. 

Nay, libertines and cowards suit me not. 
DiNO. {Restraining his ire.] 

Not when the liberty of libertines 

And coward's courage can send Dante home? 
[Hands papers to GiOTTO.] 
Jester. [While Giotto is reading.] 

How warring spirits love to shave their souls 

Till not one hair of conscience bristles still; 

And petty virtues harbor greatest vices. 

Commend me to the knight who laughs the 
best. 

DiNO. 

Then I'm thy model ; fighting charms me not. 
Nor politics, nor all that furrows brows; 
Nor wasting wars; nor turbulence that mars 
Our pleasiant pastimes, stunting crops and 

vintage. 
Security's round paunch beseems me more 
Than pale anxiety's lean shank. 
Jester. 

Why then 
Dost thou embark upon an embassy? 



Scene II Dante 163 

DiNO. 

I like the sights at stranger courts; to learn 
A newer mode of jerkin's cut; fresh gossip. 
And maids and matrons smile the same abroad 
As wenches do at home. 
Jester. 

Thou'rt a proper man — 
DiNO. [To Giotto, who is standing apart 
meditating.'] 
Well, shall I send for leech to loose thy 
tongue? 
Giotto. 

So light thy words, they scarce the atmosphere 
Did stir; so weighty all my thoughts. 
Ding. 

Come, come, 
I'll share them. 
Giotto. 

Thou! Can toads fly? 

DiNO. 

Ay, In a shower. 
Giotto. 

The witchcraft landed them In air 
To pitch them back into their proper puddles. 
No wings bore such from earth. Can thy 
thoughts fly? 



164 Dante Act IV 

DiNO. 

Ay, to my dinner. 
Giotto. 

Then fly thou with them. 
DiNO. [Aside,] 

What gentle wit; what dainty courtesy; 

I love that man — to canonizing him. 
[AloiidJ] 

Give me the papers; I must to the Prince. 
Giotto. 

As all thy friends are Dante's enemies, 

He'll place small faith In thee as messenger. 
DiNO. [Changing his tone.] 

Then Dante may In exile end his days. 

Come, let our hands now meet in friendly 
grasp. 

If we seek exercise for hip and heel, 

Let's weary limbs to lightsome tune and 
verse, 

Instead of clashing steel, try RIdda's maze.* 
Giotto. 

'TIs well for those who stay at home to cry 

' Dance, dance; shake merry tambourine aloft, 

And clasp glad castanets ' ; but what of those 

Who wend their halting steps abroad from 
Florence ? 

♦The Ridda was an old dance with song. 



Scene II Dante 165 

I will to Dante, and impart thy news. 
[Exit to garden.] 
DiNO. [To a Courtier.] 

When does the Prince return? 
First Courtier. 

We wait him daily. 
Second Courtier. 

See, the Princess comes to hear thy embassy. 
[Enter Giovanna D'Antiochia and 
Ladies.] 
Jester. 

Way for the Princess! Now is thy time, 
Dino ! 

DiNO. 

Pray Fortune's Wheel play me no trick, and 

drag 
Me smiling 'neath her rim to leave me 
powder. 
Jester. 

Thefi mount it, man; be off and grab the 
spokes. 
Dino. [Advancing.] 

Most gracious Princess, I 

Jester. [Interrupting.] 

Ho, seize him as a traitor I 
Princess. 
As traitor, why? 



1 66 Dante ActlV^ 

Jester. 

No true man he, madonna. 

DiNO. 

For shame ! 
Jester. 

For truth ! I'd rather cry, good DIno : 
So well equipped; not e'en a hole upon him; 
No rag nor tatter from his crown to sole. 
Thus playing gallant, he Is still a beggar. 

DiNO. 

That here I stand a beggar, is a fact: 
This my petition; this I beg thee read! 
[Hands paper to Princess.] 
Princess. 

We bid thee welcome to the Court, Brunlnl I 

[Looks at paper,'] 
From Florence — about our poet? Where Is 
Dante? 
Jester. 

In hell or purgatory. There he sups. 

[All laugh.] 
And spends the nights, too, when the fit's 
upon him. 
DiNO. 

I come from Rome as well as Florence. The 

Pope 
Would gladly reconcile contending feuds. 



Scene II Dante 167 

Princess. 

That's difficult. 

DiNO. 

But Mother Church Ignores 
It's difficult. 
Princess. 

Unto the Church we bow- 
Trusting her keener judgment will spy out 
Solution where our poorer sight has failed. 
Thus, full of plans, thou layest pleading hand 
On papal skirt. But peace — not war — thy 
theme ? 

DiNO. 

Peace with our foes, who might become our 

friends. 
When Emperor Henry died, the Blanchi 
Lost all their hope. The Neri, now In power, 
Proclaim to exiles pardon, if they will 
Perform due penance. 
Princess. 

And will the haughty Dante 
Brook these measures? His pride grows 

with his years. 
His pride will ne'er wear out till torn by 

death. 

{Turning to Page.] 



i68 Dante Act IF, 

Haste thou to him, and say we wait him here. 
[Exit Page.] 
Jester. 

Why's death more philosophical than Dante ? 
Princess. 
Say on. 
Jester. 

He sings of Heaven and Hell, while 
death 
Sends thee to one or th'other. 
Princess. 

Thou art starving, 
So lean thy wit. Go get thee dinner, fool. 
Jester. 

* Shall I then feed on Dante's pile of bones? 
Princess. 

Beware! Thou'lt breed contention from 
those bones. 
Jester. 

I'd rather pick a bone than quarrel with thee. 
Crowned fools are ever enemies to dread. 
A Page. 

Here Dante comes, as sober as a night owl. 
[Enter Dante, walking slowly. Cour- 
tiers bow before him with mock cere- 
mony.] 

♦Vide Appendix. 



Scene II Dante 169 

Jester. [To Dante.] 
Has helPs breath singed thy black locks to a 
crisp ? 
A Youth. 

Purgatory's diet has left him pale. 
A Page. 

Good Ser, wilt let us take a jaunt with thee 
When wandering Into the nether world? 
Second Page. 

Mayhap he'd drop thee straight into the 
Styx. 
A Maiden. 

Dante, what didst thou find on reaching Hell? 
[Dante advances. The Jester, behind 
him, imitates his walk. Seeing DiNO, 
Dante starts and stands still. Jester 
recedes in the crowd.'] 
[There is a pause.] 
Princess. [Turning, and seeing Dante.] 
Ah, Dante! News — ay, news for thee from 

Florence ! 
She offers thee the freedom of her gates; 
Recalls the exiles. Read, and prove my 
words. 
[Gives paper to Dante.] 
There's trivial fine to pay, and but slight 
penance. 



170 Dante Act IV 

Dante. 

To pay one copper's value of this fine 
Would mean the worth of conscience. Fined? 

For what? 
Through weary years of exile, clean Fve kept 
Mine honor. Ye, who brought this message, 

go— 
Tell knaves who sent It here that not till Flor- 
ence 
Wide opens gates to me with loyal welcome, 
Acknowledging the gross injustice done, 
Will she within her walls behold me more. 

Princess. 

Bethink thee twice before thou dost refuse. 

Dante. 

To end my exile with disgraceful act, 
With penance, fine I 'Mid pardoned convicts 

stand 
On Saint John's festival, within the church, 
The penitential candle In my hand! 
Have rites and gifts restore my townsman- 
ship! 

* Three lustres of an exile borne, should I — 

* I, Dante Alllghierl, so return? 

* Does innocence deserve crime's punishment? 

* Shall I, housemate of pure philosophy. 



Scene II Dante 171 

* Be offered up like Idle school boy bound? 
The time was when I swayed the people's 

voice : 
In truth, I said: * If I here sit, who stirs? 
If forth I go, who stays?' But now few 

care 
Whither I wend my steps. Ingratitude 
Is freezing life-blood In my townsmen's 

veins. 

DiNO. 

Does hate, then, cancel all thy love for Flor- 
ence? 

Dante. 

Nor flood, nor flame could cancel love like 

mine! 
The City's roughest stones are jewels to me, 
And though my bones may lie In exile's grave, 
My soul's not banished. Florence is part of 

me, 
And I of her; and linked our fame or shame. 

DiNO. [Aside.] 

The links, methinks, do gape a bit apart. 

[The Jester has been pulling the Prin- 
cess's sleeve."] 

* Dante's Epistle. 



172 Dante Act IV 

Princess. 

Here has the fool been plucking at my sleeve : 
Speak out thy message unto Florence, fool! 
Jester. 

Tell her, though Dante gives In name, In 

nature 
Forgiving is he not; and though enduring. 
Through fontal vows, through exile he is 
never. 
[All laugh.] 
Princess. 

My wonder Is such fool can win applause 
Of all the Court, while thou, so wise, dost fail. 
Dante. 

Thy wonder dies, didst thou but know this 

truth — ' 
SlmHItude of taste gives friendship birth. 
Princess. 

Keep to thy poet^s province. Thou art not 

worth 
Thy salt as jester. 

[Dante starts to retort. Giotto restrains 
htm.] 
Giotto. [Aside to Dante.] 

The ass sticks out of lion's hide on Dino, 
As sting of bee lurks In Glovanna's honey. 
Up, Dante, up; discomfit all thy foes; 



Scene II Dante 173 

Unleash the panting dogs of thy proud mind, 
And hound these Idle mockers to a bog, 
Where they will flounder with their sophis- 
tries. 
Though thou art poet banished, still thouVt 
man. 
Princess. 

Still obdurate, wise Dante? 
Giotto. 
I read No 

In every line and wrinkle on his brow. 
Princess. 

Unbend thy dignity. Accept these terms. 
Dante. 

Here Is my answer. 

{He tears the paper to shreds.'] 
Princess. [To Dino.] 

Then thy mission ends. 
Dino. 

I crave a private hearing with our poet. 
I have much for his ear alone. 
Princess- 

Ye can 
Withdraw and season with your oil and vine- 
gar 
This salad embassy. 

[Giotto lingers a little apart near the cut' 



174 Dante Act IV 

tained alcove, into which Dante retires 
with DiNO.] 
Dante. 

Out with the motive of thy coming — haste I 

DiNO. 

Thou hast a daughter, Dante — young and 

fair; 
Hast thought of wedding her? 
Dante. 

I'd rather light 
Her funeral pyre than wedding torch. 
DiNO. 

She's grown 
The prettiest wench alive. To see her pass 
On way to church, invites a man to prayer. 
There Is a breath of spring about the girl 
That rouses freshness In the dullest blood. 
Ay, Dante; by my troth, Td wed her fairly. 
Dante. 
Thou I Thoul 

DiNO. 

Give her to me, I'll promise thee 
Full pardon • swift return to Florence. 
Dante. 

Wretch I 
Out of my sight — my reach ! before these 

hands, 
Spite thy white hairs, to silence strangle thee, 



Scene II Dante 175 

Decrepit hypocrite! 
[Dante seizes him,] 
DiNO. [Screeching.] 

Help! He's killing me! 
[Dante thrusts him aside."] 
Dante. 
Dog! 

[Giotto advances.] 
DiNO. [Staggering.] 

I'm mauled because I offer liberty! 
I'm maimed for offering Bice wedlock I 
Dante. [Starting after him.] 

Let not thy unclean lips profane a name 
The angels hold as sacred. Get thee gone. 
[Dino slinks away.] 
Giotto. [To Dante.] 

Of marriage spoke that tottering, hoary 
beast! 
Dante. 

Away the recollection of this hour! 

Nor In the days to come shall she be wed; 

Another bridal Is my theme: my country's. 

* Console thyself, Italia, for thy spouse — 

* Our century's joy, thy people's glory — 

comes ! 

* He hastens to thy nuptials. Dry thy tears — 

* O, beautiful of the most beautiful! 
♦Dante's Epistle, 



176 Dante Act IV 

Weave wreaths and burnish gems ; strew ten- 
der flowers 

Adown the paths. Bring forth the sealed 
wine; 

Spread sumptuous feast; shout out the bridal 
hymn ; 

Hang up gay banners; light the wedding 
torch, 

For Liberty will come to be thy spouse I 

[Giotto motions to Dante to he silent , 
lest he he overheard, and slowly leads 
him away."] 

DiNO. 

Unchanging is that poet's frozen No. 
I must depart, and bid ye all, farewell. 
Princess. 

Accept our hospitality to-night. 
Unless too gay our court festivities, 
For one who, Tuscan bred, may be austere* 
DiNO. [Hurriedly.] 

I am a Florentine, but not a Dante; 
Nay, pressing matters urge me straightway 
home. 
[DiNO salutes the Princess and Com- 
PANY^ assemhles his retainers and as he 
leaves speaks to Dante.] 



Scene II Dante i77 

DiNO. 

Thy Insolence, I will requite, proud poet. 
[Exit.-] 
Princess. 

Now for our pastimes. Wilt thou join us, 
Dante? 
Dante. 

The woes of bitter heart should not be bared 
For foes to scoff at. Silence enfolds them 

best. 
My somber presence 111 befits these halls, 
Filled with delight and jests. I crave in- 
dulgence 
To sit apart. 

[Dante withdraws behind the arras.] 
Princess. 

We will not bide his pleasure: 
So, friends, proceed to trip the jaunty measure. 
Jester. [Singing] 

Let's, shake the walls with our wild jests and 

laughter; 
In youth let's lusty be, and burled after; 
So hang up the lance 
Live, quaff, sing and dance. 
And love, love, love till the crack of doom, 
O! 
[Dances.] 



178 Dante Act IV 

Princess. 

Well jumped, my nimble Jack. There's for 
thy pains. 
\_Gives ring.'] 
Now, ladles, shall we tread a lively measure? 
[Music begins, and Princess and Ladies 
dance with Courtiers. Noise is heard 
outside. The music breaks off amid 
cries — ] 
Dan Giovanni to me ! 
Slay the villains, slay! 

l^The court rush to the doors and windows.] 
Nobles and Ladies. 

A rescue ! A rescue ! The Pilgrims come ! 

[Noise continues outside,] 
[Uberto rushes in, his monk's hood 
thrown aside, and carrying Beatrice 
Allighieri fainting in his arms,] 
Princess. 

What means this turmoil? 
Uberto. 

Treachery, great Princess ! 
We claim protection for our little band, 
And justice for the lawless knaves without 
Who tried to abduct this gracious lady. 
[Enter Francesca, and others,] 



Scefte II Dante 



179 



Princess. 

This Court shall shelter her, ne'er fear I 
[Loud cries outside.'] 
Ho, there! 
Seize every man who lurks without these 
walls ! 
[Soldiers who have come in from the left, 
rush out again by the door through which 
Uberto Dal Colle entered,'] 
Dante. [Entering hurriedly.] 

I heard a cry of Florentine for help. 
Bice. [Recovering.] 

O father ! father ! 
Dante. 

Beatrice here I 
[They embrace.] 
Francesca. 

Yea, take her to thy heart. There is her 
haven. 
We fled from Florence. Evil eyes had spied 
Her loveliness. Let once the vulture look 
Upon the dove, she's lost unless her wings 
Waft her beyond his cruel ken. 
Dante. 

My Bice! 
Great love did move thy weakness to fare 
forth, 



i8o Dante Act IV 

Tempting the untried terrors of the road. 
Francesca ! friend of happier days, thrice wel- 
come! 
Francesca. 

And here's a loyal knight who served us well. 
[She indicates her brother Uberto.] 
Dante. [To Uberto.] 

The stripling has, at last, then, grown to 

man; 
A sound, strong branch, upon a rotten tree. 
Hath put forth leaves. 
Uberto. 

I'll die for thee ! 
Dante. 

Uberto's voice has still the old ring In it. 
Uberto. 

Uberto's heart has still the old love In it. 
Dante. 

O exile, from the depths of Mara wells 
Some drops of sweetness mingle with thy gall ! 
How womanly my Beatrice grows — 
But yesterday she seemed a timid child. 
[To Francesca, watching Bice greeted 
by Princess.] 
Francesca. 
Our Southern sun warms swiftly buds to blos- 
som. 



Scene II Dante i8i 

[Great commotion outside. Enter soldiers 
and Pilgrims, with DiNO and his men, 
guarded."] 
Princess. 

Thus do false Florentines betray their own ! 
Behold a guest, scarce parted from his host, 
Swoops down upon a band of holy pilgrims ! 
Uberto. 

But found that some monks' frocks hide coats 
of mail. 
Princess. 

Stand forth, and let thy townsmen see thy 
face. 
[DiNO is dragged forward before the 
Court.'] 
Dante. [Springing toward him.] 

Thou miserable cur — skulking in shadow, 
To do the deeds that sunshine execrates. 
Uberto. [Drawing sword and rushing toward 

DiNO.] 

So thou, the lying knave hiding in darkness, 
Now, in the light, defend thyself to death! 
[DiNO shrinks from them.] 
Princess. 
Hold, Messers, hold ! and fight without this 
Court 



1 82 Dante Act IV 

[A courtier draws Uberto back.] 
[Dante disarms DiNO and flings him 
across the room,] 

Dante. 

I'll not soil hands with hoary sinner's blood, 
But let him keep that mystic bauble life — 
The crystal ball, wherein the angels watch 
Men's good and evil deeds. These moving 

scenes 
Will soon slip from this aged jackal's hand. 

Princess. [Turning to Dino.] 
Lest that our ire at this treachery 
Send thee to hell, without a priest or shrift. 
Betake thee hence in haste, Ser Dino — Go ! 
[In the lull, DiNo's men rush him out, 
causing murmurs in the Court, hut the 
hand is allowed to depart.] 

•Princess. [To Pilgrims.] 

Lay every staff aside to-night. To-morrow 
Resume your saintly pilgrimage, refreshed. 
Leaving with us your gracious benediction 
For our most willing hospitality. 

[Turning to Francesca and BiCE.] 
Fair ladies, you are welcome to our Court, 
Long may you tarry to delight our eyes. 
Anon we wait you at the festive board. 



Scene II Dante 1 83 

[She salutes ladies, Dante and Uberto, 
then goes out with courtiers and pil- 
grims, Dante is left alone with Bice, 
Francesca, Uberto and Giotto.] 
Francesca. 
Now for thy news. Dante, we long to hear 
Of all thou sawest In thy varied travels. 
Bice. 

Our thoughts have pictured thee these weary 

months 
In many places and In varied moods. 
O, let us know how near the truth we drew. 
Dante. 
Through our loved land I wandered, passed 

to Paris; 
Sitting on straw, and drinking learning In, 
I heard bold lectures from the sage Slgler. 
Or, rambling near the Seine, marked the sad 

house 
Where Abelard fair Heloise once taught 
Latin and Love together — beginning life 
More than a monk, to end more monk than 

man, 
While she a cloistered lifetime spent to rue 
A few wild days of passioned love and youth ; 
Then sailed to white-cllffed isle where Ed- 
ward reigns, — 



1 84 Dante Act IV 

Son of the Longshanga of adventurous fame, 
Tarried In London by the lordly Thames, 
Touched Oxford's hallowed ground, where 

once of yore 
Great Alfred widely lit that little spark 
To fire some centuries of learning — saw 
The state of University's great hall, 
Which Durham's will did well endow, and 

Ballol, 
Founded by Scottish king; I saw the house 
Where dwell the Merton scholars, which the 

wise 
Walter de Merton once from Maiden moved 
To Oxford; viewed fair lands and strong 

hewn castles. 
The gentle hills, deep vales and yielding soil. 
The strong-limbed race that fills this teeming 

isle. 
And marked the blue waves beating watch 

and ward 
Around this sturdier Venus of the sea; 
Retraced my steps with longing Infinite, 
To find my Florence still porte close to me I 
My people — O, what have I done to thee * 
That thus in exile I must weep my days? 
Since then life Is to me but empty shell, 

* Dante's Epistle. 



Scene II Dante 185 

From which, crab-like, I've crawled to lose 

myself 
In ocean of a sorrow Infinite — 
Francesca. 

Rude Fate, with grimmest deeds of blood 
Hath thrown a haze of red on our horizon; 
But think thou of our joyous youth, when 

Guldo 
And Marco jested with la Primavera 
As e'er we called fair Vanna, and of glad 

days 
We passed In Portlnari's scented alleys. 
Dante. 

Ah, how thy words recall the time when 

youth 
Was hot upon me, and life full of love. 
To some Love dancing comes, all roseate 

crowned 
Holding to lips his nectar sparkling cup; 
To me he tendered poison-draught to drain. 
At times he speeds In golden sheen — a Fay 
Strewing man's pathway with most precious 

gifts, 
Anon he crawls to hearts as subtle snake; 
There fastening fangs, feeds to satiety. 
So Love stole to my boyish breast; I was 
No Infant Hercules to strangle it. 



1 86 Dante Act IV 

Giotto. [Seating himself near Dante.] 
As ever, joy and grief divide the honors 
As hosts at our life's feasts, and we poor 

guests 
Still vainly scramble for the higher seats. 
Dante. 

The higher seats to-day are filled with rogues : 
Corso enthroned in Florence — 
Francesca. 

Nay, he's food 
For worms — killed while trying to slay 
Uberto. 
Dante. 

Dead! and all his vast ambition shrouded 
In the grave I He was a foe most bitter 
But brave. That cancels many sins in men. 
So round the whirling wheels of Fate's proud 

car 
Levelling out lives, like daisies trodden down 
'Neath chargers' hoof; philosophy 'lone 

mounts 
To driver's seat, but drops the reins In haste 
When death cries * halt ' ! Ay, all obey that 

voice 
Whose tones re-echo through all Nature's 

gamut. 
The proudest pine decays and drops to dust, 



Scene II Dante 187 

As doth the lowliest weed. So fade the flow- 
ers, 

So cease the blithest songs, so droop strong 
wings 

That clove the liquid blue of yon fair skies. 

Yet, from these ends arise yet fresher lives. 

Spring's teeming soil demands last Autumn's 
dead. 

So Nature turns her shrouds to swaddling 
bands 

And lets the spirit of her being revive 

In newer songs, and sweeter sights and scents, 

Bearing them through, on to Eternity, 

And so man dies ! his dust feeds future flow- 
ers, 

While golden thoughts, and glowing words 
and deeds, 

Like tapers priests have blest around a tomb, 

Illume his grave, and shed a radiance o'er 

His name's short day, serving to light the 
path 

Of those close following. Man dies to live ! 

O, death from life? O, life from death I 
The mind 

Of minds, alone this mystery reveals I 

[Dante sit$ absorbed, his head resting on 



1 8 8' Dante Act IV 

his hand, then takes up tablets and 
writes.'] 

Francesca. [To Giotto.] 
There come the tablets; this mighty poem 
Fills me with awe unspeakable; If Impious 
What vengeance may not Heaven deal to 
Dante I 
Giotto. 

Ne'er fear, posterity will glory in his name. 
Francesca. 

Mark how his brow is knit; how strange his 

smile I 
To this abstraction he was ever prone. 
Once, gone to watch the gayest sight in Flor- 
ence, 
Pedestrians, singers, gorgeous cavaliers, 
Rose-strewing children in a glittering throng. 
That wound its shining stream-like way 

through squares 
And narrow streets, he stood within a shop 
Whose only wares were books. As the pro- 
cession 
Neared to the door, our poet spied a pamphlet 
Unread by him. He seized it; lost in 

thought, 
Read on, nor laid it from his hand till show 



Scetie II Dante 189 

Was past and gone. The shouting crowd, 

the banners, 
The splendid train of horse and men, unseen, 
Unheard, unthought of by the dreamer 

Dante.* 

[They converse apart.'] 
[Beatrice and Uberto come down to- 
gether.'] 

Uberto. 

Didst miss me. Bice? 

Bice. 

While in the convent, 
I missed all my friends. Life's dull without 
home ties. 
Uberto. 

Nor hast forgot our merry games? 
Bice. 
No, no. 

[ They have crossed to the steps leading to 
the garden, and pause near a bench on 
which lie halls and games. Uberto 
throws her a halL"] 
Uberto. 

Come, catch it. Bice, as once thou didst. 

* Vide Dante's Life. 



190 Dante Act IV, 

[Bice lets the ball pass by. It rolls 
away down the steps. 1 
Bice. 

We played ball at the convent — not with boys. 
Uberto. 

I am now a man. 
Bice. 

Not man like Giotto. 
Uberto. 

I would not be as grave as he. I love 

To laugh and sing — lie in the grass and 

dream, 
Save when I wear a sword to shield my lady. 
Bice. 

See how thy ball has hopped down all the 
steps ! 
Uberto. 

Anon I'll seek it. Come and sit awhile, 
And talk to me as thou didst when a child. 
[Bice breaks of some flowers from a 
rose-pot and holds them out to htm. He 
stretches out on a stone bench near her, 
his chin resting in his palms. 1 
Bice. 

These roses for a wreath — 
Uberto. [Taking some.] 
To crown thee, Bice ? 



Scene II Dante 191 

There was a flower game that pleased thee 

once, 
How ran the rhyme ? * One rose for each 
fair cheek?' 
Bice. [Correcting.] 

* For each soft cheek a rose — ' 

[Uberto leans forward and touches a rose 
to each of her cheeks.] 
Bice. [Continuing.'] 

* Ten wreaths her golden hair — ' 

[Uberto, half-kneeling on the bench, puts 
on her head the wreath they have been 
weaving.] 

* One for her forehead fair — ' 

[Uberto touches a rose to her forehead.] 
Bice. 

* And two her lips to close — ' 

[As Bice says the last line, Uberto 
touches her lips with a rose, and, doing 
so, kisses her on the lips. BiCE starts upy 
dropping the flowers, and moves away, 
Uberto, seeing her troubled look, fol- 
lows.] 
Uberto. [Calling after her.] 
Bice — Madonna Bice! 

[He overtakes her and they walk away in 
the garden.] 



192 Dante Act IV 

Giotto. [Looking at Dante.] 

Dante's a dreamer, and we but shadows 
In his dreams! This angers Gemma; 
She mourns her lot. 
Francesca. 

The great must have their foibles; 
And faults In husbands, when we love, turn 

virtues; 
And patience Is best coral to cut teeth on; 
'TIs the Credo, Ave and Paternoster 
Of honest woman's household life — with love 
Walks patience, hand In hand, till sweet is 

service 
That else would grow past bearing in our 

lives. 
My faith was orthodox In two beliefs; 
My God and Marco. They held my hell and 
heaven. 
[Enter Beppo, an old servant of Dal 
COLLE ; he had been with DiNO's retain- 
ers. He is evidently drunk, and tries to 
steal quietly into the hall, but stumbles 
over a bench.] 
Giotto. [Starting up.] 

Who's this? 
Beppo. [Bowing and stumbling.] 
Beppo — good Ser — only poor Beppo. 



Scene II Dante 1 93 

Francesca. 

He was my father's man — and now serves 
Dino. 

What brings thee? 
Beppo. 

Requital for my service. 
Dante. [Laying aside script, joins Giotto 
and Francesca.] 

What services ? Doth spy for DIno ? Speak ! 

Plots, counter-plots are In the air. Deceits 

Are current coin to-day, to pay all scores. 

Beppo. 
Whispers, and elbow jogglngs, and sly winks, 
Are ammunition wasted on myself. 
Dal Colle's hints hit but a hard cuirass; 

[He strikes his breast in a drunken man- 
ner,'] 

Have I not heard the * Cause ' 
[He laughs drunkenly.] 

these fifteen years — 
For what? Ay, tell me that. Thou needst 

not stare — > 
The truth will out, Ser poet. 

Dante. [Aside to Giotto.] 
What meaneth he? 



194 Dante Act IV 

Giotto. [Aside to Dante.] 

The knave knoweth truly more than suits his 
masters. 
Beppo. 

By the Rood I've waited, moon in, moon out. 
I'll wait no more. My silence should be paid, 
And services. 

{Hlccoiighs.'\ 
Can they count it my fault 
That plans so neatly laid, have borne no 
fruit? 

Dante. 

What scandal lurks beneath these words? 

Speak out! 
Better to die through knowledge than to live 
Half-dead with dread suspicion. Speak, 

knave ! 

Beppo. [Looking tip and talking at them 
again.'] 
I need reward for wedding thee to Gemma I 

[Dante starts.]. 
If watchful spy, I had not played for them 
On that eventful San Giovanni's Day 
When Beatrice died — 

Dante. 

Withhold that name! 



Scene II Dante 195 

Beppo. 
And spread reports of Corso^s cruelty, 
To win for her thy pity. She was apt. 
And wept and fainted when we told her 
to — 
Dante. 

Stay ! Give me time to grasp this villainy ! 
Giotto. [To Beppo.] 

Thou drunken fool, hie hence. Thy speech 

betrays 
Too brutal scheme for honest men to stom- 
ach! 
Beppo. 

Dal Collets dead, and DIno swore to-night 
He needs no gray-beards in his service now. 
By San Michele, I have earned my wage — 
Giotto. 

Then go to them who made thee play the 
spy. 
{He pushes Beppo o/f through the en- 
trance. 1 

Dante. 

The sister false, like brother — false to me ! 
Dal Colle, Corso, DIno — ay — and Gemma — 
Weaving a web to tangle me therein. 
To wed me to another while my lady 



19^ Dante Act IV 

Still was mine. And all these years I nursed 
a lie — 

A living lie — warm sheltered in my arms I 
Giotto. 

This tale thou must not take so much to heart. 

Madonna Gemma's love for thee was great, 

They used her as a tool to serve their ends. 
Francesca. [Who has been near the garden 
steps, joins Dante.] 

Dante, what moves thee so? 
Dante. 

A lie — not new 

To thee; one thou hast hidden in thy heart 

Full sixteen years. 
Francesca. 

A He? What lie? 
Dante. 

Thou wert 

In league with Corso, Dino and Dal Colle, 

And planned to force me into wedding 
Gemma. 
Francesca. 

O Dante! She loved thee I 
Dante. 

I know at last 

That Corso's anger was but feigned to rouse 

My pity till I wed her. 



Scene II Dante 197 

Francesca. 

She loved thee I 
Dante. 

Her cries, her swoons, were mummeries well 
learnt. 
Francesca. 

She loved thee, Dante, and she loves thee 
still. 
Dante. 

Thou calPst It love. No love's born of dis- 
honor. 

She Is my children's mother; for their sakes 

No public scandal shall attack her name. 

But that she did deceive me, fills my soul 

With scorn unutterable for herself. 

Henceforth we tread our ways apart. 
Francesca. 

O, let her youthful passion plead for her! 

How could a girl, scarce from her mother's 
side 

Define the boundaries of so-called honor! 

She loved! — and strove to win the man she 
loved, 

Though subterfuge might mingle with her 
truth. 

Unconscious 111 was good, the clay with gold. 

Yet it behooves thee, being great, to look 



198 Dante Act IV 

With gentleness on others' sins. Thy heights 
Most erring souls could never reach! For- 
give! 
For dear love's sake, I dare not harbor wrath. 
{Pause. Giotto, who has been watching 
to see if Beppo has left, rejoins them. 
Bice appears from garden.] 
BiCE!. 

Dear father, come and roam this beauteous 

garden. 
No pleasure is joy to me, unshared by thee. 
Dante. 

Thou art most duteous daughter, and thy love 
Illumines many shadowy nooks in life. 
Bice. 

My duty twins it with my love. I pity 
Thy foes for losing joy of loving Dante. 
Dante. 
Thy fondness overleaps the truth, my Bice, 
As when a prattling babe thouMst climb my 

knee. 
And with big kisses vow I was more dear 
Than doll or sugar lamb. My pretty bird, 
I missed thy cheery chirpings round my chair. 
The years we lent thee to the holy sisters. 
Bice. 
So said Uberto — that he missed me much. 



Scene II Dante 199 

Dante. [Startled.] 

And thou missed him? 
Bice. 

I missed all those I loved. 
Dante. 

Thou lovest, then, the young Dal Colle? 
Bice. 

Why should I not? He hath a loyal heart, 

Is handsome, brave, and yet, withal, so gentle. 
Dante. 

Are not the other youths as well equipped? 
Bice. 

Ah, none can equal him. So high he stands 

In my esteem. 
Dante. 

As high as thou holdest me? 
Bice. 

As high, yet not the same. Thou art my 
father; 

I owe thee life, and all the days my duty. 
Dante. 

Dear child, Uberto is a merry friend. 

Methinks he's loyal, but his youth still waits 

Upon a tested manhood, and he's son 

Of one who was my bitter enemy. 

My daughter could ne'er wed Dal Colle's 
child. 



200 Dante ^Act IF 

Sooner I'd have thee end thy days a nun. 

Nay, nay. Droop not thy pretty head. All 
life 

Awaits thee ! Thy imperious youth may win 

High rank as well as honest heart for spouse. 
Bice. 

A clown, o'er black bread and goat's cheese 
can gladden 

The heart of wife beloved, more than a knight 

Can cheer his lady o'er red Vernaccia, 

Should she, alas, no longer worship him. 
Dante. 

Worship is for the saints — not men, dear 
ohild. 

What ! tears ! — tears for a boy thou'st scarcely 
seen 

Since childish days? Nay, dry thine eyes, 
my Bice. 
[Dante kisses Bice and turns to Fran- 
CESCA and Giotto. They cross to the 
alcove and pass behind the arras. Fran- 
CESCA^ about to join BiCE, sees her 
brother returning from the garden. She 
waves her hand to him, pointing to Bice. 
Pause.'] 
[Bice looks slowly around. The sun is 
setting.] 



Scene II Dante 201 

Bice. 

Such glorious sunshine close within my reach, 

Such heavy shadows close about me fall, 

Such joy and lightness In the scented air. 

Such numbing pain and darkness In my heart! 

The sunset of my love Is nearing me. 
Uberto. 

Alone, Madonna Bice, and so wistful? 
Bice. 

Uberto, wilt grant me favor? 
Uberto. 

Ay, 'tis thine 

Ere asked. 
Bice. 

'Tis a message to be safe delivered. 
Uberto. 

Entrust It me. Though words to seal my 
doom, 

They^re said. 

Bice. ' 

My message Is to Heaven. V 

Uberto. 

rd die 
To take It; but, through sins, my soul might 

slip 
Into the shades of nether world instead. 



202 Dante Act IV 

Bice. 

There Is no need to bend thy life, but knee. 
And breathe a prayer into the Eternal Ear, 
To our Creator, Judge, and Savior pray, 
He re-create, and judge and save our Flor- 
ence, 
Pouring His balm of mercy in our wounds 
Of civil discord, till the olive thrives, 
In place of blood-stained laurels; and pray, 

Uberto, 
For strength to guide thee through these 

troubled times, 
And add a prayer for me — 

Uberto. 

Thy gentle words, 
Madonna, fall upon my waiting heart, 
As seed in Springtime from the sower's hands, 
Falls on the furrowed ground; from my 

heart's soul. 
Inspired by thy virtues, shall spring up 
A living crop of holy thoughts and deeds. 
Due to thy sowing. 

Bice. 

O, may the angels' hands 
Reap close thy crop for God's own harvest- 
ing! 



Scene II Dante 203 

Uberto. 

I'll pray for Florence, and for guilty self; 
But for thy own pure soul, Madonna, prayers 
Need but to rise as sweetest benedictions. 

Bice. 

Do women need less help by prayer than men? 
Have we no thorns to tread beneath our feet, 
Nor fiery paths to singe our fragile garments? 

Uberto. 

We men have more temptations than ye 

maids; 
We're formed of coarser clay. 

Bice. 

Yet are ye formed 
In God's own type, and must ye then drag that 
Such sacred semblance down into the dust? 
Let likeness of a God lie in the mire? 
Man should be chaste as woman; sin Is sin. 
Thy stronger nature should uplift thee from 
The swinish pleasures of an earthly sty. 
From sloth and gluttony, lust, heated cups, 
And all the miraged joys of fallen minds. 
If woman strive as virgin, wife and mother 
To humbly follow Mary's holy life, 
Thou hast still higher type, as man, in Christ, 
To preach thee perfect love of purity. 



204 Dante Act IV 

Uberto. 

If worldly men would think such thoughts as 

thine, 
Living them out in simple, daily deeds, 
Life's byways would smell sweet with blos- 
soms dropt 
From Heaven, 'stead reeking of ill-savored 

weeds 
That sprout from Hell. Though 'tis not 

meet for knight 
To vaunt his merits to his lady's face, 
Yet I can say our race was never prone 
To gross delight in sottish pleasuring. 

Bice. 

I know thee pure, and call thee, therefore, 

friend ; 
Thy fault is rather pride, with all its vices. 

Uberto. 

Blue blood must needs run proudly through 
our veins. 

Bicfi. 
And why? Thy birth, wealth, talents — all 

are gifts 
From God. As such they should be humbly 

held. 
My soul In secret oft hath likened thee 



Scene II Dante 205 

To truest knight of brave King Arthur's 

Court, 
Who sought the Holy Grail. Be thou like 

him, 
As humble and as pure, and let thy pride 
Live only In good deeds, so I In faith 
Can call thee e'er my true Sir Galahad. 
Uberto. 

Thine, didst thou say? Would I In truth 

were thine! 
O Beatrice ! Well thou know'st my love. 
Bice. 

And thou wouldst call me wife? 
Uberto. 

If thou wilt stoop 
To earthly bliss of wedlock with myself, 
Most wisely hast thou read my thoughts, 

sweet Sybil. 
It needs no skill in keen Cumaean craft 
To sift the meaning from thy garnered 

thoughts ; 
No honest man doth say unto pure maid 
* I love thee,' save he wills his passion change 
Her life's fresh tints to richer, deeper dye. 
Her virgin freedom narrowing to fit 
A golden circlet, a tiny talisman 
That holds in trifling space sweet love enow 



2o6 Dante Act IV 

To fill a world with Heaven's own joy and 
peace. 

And shall my love not win response from 
thine? 
Bice. 

No blush of shame dusks cheek to own my 
love, 

No passion pales my maiden hue to feel it; 

I love thee without thought of shame or pas- 
sion. 
Uberto. 

Dear lips, O, say those words of life again! 
Bice. 

I love thee, but I ne'er can be thy wife. 
Uberto. 

O Bice, waft me not upon thy love 

To Heaven; then dash me down to Hell 
again! 
Bice. 

No hand of mine can ever He in thine. 

If Fate had willed to me a happier lot, 

As I do love thee, I had been thy wife. 
Uberto. 

Say not * had ' ; give me a grain of hope I 

Though small as millet seed hid in thy heart, 

'Twill grow till it can fill love's granary. 



Scene II Dante 207 

Bice. 

If thou lightest love with hope, thy fueVs soon 

spent; 
I love thee freely without hope or fear, 
But, after God, I owe my father life: 
He wills I take the veil ; I must obey. 
But all my prayers and thoughts and love are 

thine: 
Havened above the stars at Mary's feet. 
There lies my love for thee eternally. 

Uberto. 

I can not throw aside a heaven on earth 
For others' whims, nor sighing let thee pass 
A saintly shadow o'er my path, while life 
Hot leaping through my veins, still lends a 

chance 
Of winning Beatrice for my bride. 

[Sounds of rejoicing heard outside. Enter 
soldiers, courtiers, ladies, pages, GlO- 
VANNA, Can Grande and Jester.] 

Jester. 

Room for the fool who fights for neighbors' 
quarrels ! 
Giovanna. 

Room for the victor proudly coming home I 



2o8 Dante Act IV 

[Francesca has rejoined BiCE. Gio- 
VANNA turns to them, taking each by the 
hand.] 
GiovANNA. [To Can Grande.] 

This saintly maid is Bice, Dante's daughter; 
This sad-eyed matron Marco Nerli's widow. 
Can Grande. 

Most welcome to our court, fair Florentines. 
[Giotto and Uberto approach Can 
Grande as courtiers surround him and 
offer congratulations.] 
A Noble. [Aside to another.] 

Can Grande's sated with his victories, 

But his erst friend, our sombre guest and 

poet, 
Refrains from lauding these fine martial 
feats. 
Second Noble. 

Dante had hoped the Prince could push to 

Rome, 
To weld with Emperor a Caesar's reign. 

Can Grande. [To Giotto.] 

A likely youth, Uberto; he can stay 

If so he wills, and stretch our hospitality. 

[Looking round.] 
No greetings from our poet? How is this? 



Scene IF Dante 209 

Jester. 

He's wedged In ice he says awaits in Hell, 
So frozen e'en hell's fires melt him not. 
[Dante has come from the alcove and 
joined BiCE and Francesca.] 
Can Grande. [Loudly.'] 

Durante Alllghieri has grown dumb, 
No word of welcome greets his host's return. 
Dante. 
Why waste in feuds, O Prince, the strength 

God gives? 
*Tis for our country's general weal — not 
For fighting quarrelsome neighbors when they 

fail 
To observe some trivial courtesy our due. 
Can Grande. 

Hear Dante preaching humbleness, not pride. 
Rank has its dues, these should be fully paid. 
Dante. 

Proud lives of daring deeds bespeak our 

'praise. 
But we are apt to lavish it on men 
Who should claim none. Why mu5t we bow 

the knee 
To some old noble's son because he bears 
His father's name,* unless with noble rank 
*Vide Dante's Life and Works. 



210 Dante Jet IF 

The youth Inherits virtues of his sire? 
Noble he's not, and no ancestral coffers 
Should be deemed his. How rarely human 

worth 
Climbs topmost branch of genealogic tree! 
Nobility, In Its true essence lives 
Alone In virtue, valor, art and genius. 

Jester. 

Our Prince's triumphs are not valor then? 

Dante. 

Such triumphs may yet prove our land's de- 
feat. 
And stifle In men's souls their freedom's 

growth. 
While foreign powers tread upon our heels, 
Each state Is clamoring for supremacy. 
If Italy still fears to stand alone 
Amid the conclave of the mighty nations, 
Let one wise ruler gather In his hands 
The reins of government and be our head 
Till we have learnt to blend our private aims 
In one harmonious whole. Then shall we 

rear 
Our crest as high as any in the world I 

Can Grande. 
As Vicar-General shall I then not 



Scene II Dante 211 

Speak out my views, enforcing them with 

sword? 
Keep to thy dreams of Heaven and Hell, but 

spare 
Thy patrons sermons they need not I My 

weal 
Demands my care as much as others' woes. 
Dante. [Passionately.] 

Away with selfish thoughts of thine own 

good! 
A patriot first should serve his country's ends, 
Had I ten lives to spend Fd lay them down 
At my beloved country's feet, as Mary 
Of Magdala anointed feet of Christ. 
Can Grande. [fVith anger.] 

O, thou hast chosen well thy time to rail 
At those who sit In power while thou art but 
An exile lacking even fighting varlets. 
To do thy bidding on thy enemies ! 
Dante. 

Thou speakest as a soldier, the prose of arms; 
My power needs not the blood of war for 

growth, 
'Tis greater than clash of sword and breath 

of kings. 
God's finger has lain lightly on my lips. 
The songs I sing, the sermons that I preach 



2 1 2 Dante Act IV 

Will help to bind my bleeding country's 

wounds 
And shape to Unity our Italy. 
Can Grande. 

Would Papal power approve of such a 
scheme ? 
Dante. 

Let Popes look to our souls; but purse and 

sword 
Should fill, unfill, rust, shine, without their 
care. 
Can Grande. 

Be cautious, Dante, for thy speech begins 
To touch on heresy. 
Dante. 

In faith, Can Grande, 
Rank heresy lurks more in ears than tongue. 
Can Grande. 
Then let's hear less; but come, we'll break our 
fast. 
[A feast has been prepared. It is dark 
and torches have been brought in. The 
court ladies have robed Bice and Fran- 
cesca in rich mantles and put wreaths 
on their heads.~\ 
Dante. 
,With meals to silence conscience, ay, how oft 



Scene II Dante 213 

A stomach, newly filled, will prove ally- 
To sins the self-indulgent imp within 
Had futilely suggested while we starved. 
[The courtiers and ladies and Can 
Grande, Giovanna D'Antiochia and 
guests seat themselves. Music is played 
then.] 

Song Sung by Several Guests 

Drink! 
To Mars, the God of War and Blood! 
High to him in ruby flood ! 

To the brink 
Of goblet gold with sapphires gemmed 
Fill ! Let not a drop escape. 
Offer him the blood of grape. 

Mars! We drink! 

Drink! 
To Venus, fairest Goddess found, 
Braced In Beauty, cestus-bound. 

Goblets chink 
To floating hair and open lids, 
To marble limbs no vestments drape; 
Offer her the blood of grape. 

Venus ! Drink ! 



2 14 Dante Act IV 

Drink! 
To Pluto, for our passions' fire 
Is his, and that mad wine's inspire. 

To the brink 
Fill high to God of lowest Hell ! 
By fair Proserpine's rude rape. 
Offer him the fumes of grape. 

Pluto! Drink! 

Drink! 
For in the cup lie Fame and Wars 
Mightier than the gift of Mars. 

Goblets chink. 
Drain Pluto's fire in ruddy flood, 
Or let the fumes with fancy shape 
A Venus from the amber grape. 

Ever Drink! 

Can Grande. 

A lordly song well sung. I drink to thee ! 
[Holds lip his cup to one of the ladies.'] 
Come, Uberto, leave our black-browed poet. 
Hath Boniface drawn up new code of morals? 
Come join our court; we need some younger 
gallant. 
Uberto. 

Great Prince — my word — my time, my 
thoughts, my life, 



Scene II Dante 215 

Wait but on Dante — Him alone I'll serve — 
[Dante hearing, grasps Uberto's hand.] 
Can Grande. 

Thy gravity but ill befits thy youth. 

But take thy will : we force no guest to feast. 

[He turns to the courtiers and ladies and 
joins in the laughter and drinking.'] 

[Giotto, Francesca and Bice have left 
the others; as they join Dante, Uberto 
crosses to Bice.] 

Uberto. [To Bice.] 

Has love, the plummet line of woman's heart, 

Not sounded thine? Has patient faith no 
claim? 

Must I still wait without a hope of thee? 
Bice. 

Can love stretch wings while round us fall 

Portentous shadows from my father's grief? 
UbertO. 

Love lifts all shadows from this earth; 

Its strength, its brightness emanate from 
heaven. 

Love, like the faithful widow's cruse of oil, 

But spends its richness to renew its store; 

Increasing power of giving by the gift, 



2i6 Dante Act IV 

From all the wealth of love stored in thy 
heart, 

Beatrice, hast thou none for me? 
Bice. 

My love is thine, but all my life's my father's. 

Uberto. 

On thy knees, go plead with him, my Bice. 

Let him but know that all our happiness 

Is bound up in each other's being. His love 

Will ne'er deny our suit. 
Bice. 

After my God, 

1 owe my father duty. What he wills, 
I will. 

[Francesca joins them.] 
Uberto. [Turning to Francesca.] 
O sister, plead for me ! 

Francesca. [To her brother.] 
If thou 
Dost fail to move her, how can I? 
[Turning to BiCE.] 
Dear Bice, 
Men dare not boast the steadfastness of 

women ; 
They love through passion where we love 
through love, 



Scene II Dante 217 

And when thou findest one whose manly 

strength 
But serves to hold his passion 'neath his will, 
O, honor him, the length of all thy life I 
Now, on my soul, I deem Uberto true, 
I urge thee take such gift as sent from God. 
[Bice holds out her hand to Uberto. 
He draws her slowly into his arms and 
embraces her. BiCE then crosses to 
Dante, and sinks at his feet. Dante 
lovingly raises her. She whispers to 
him. Uberto approaches them.] 
Dante. 

Uberto, come. Most men have played me 

false; 
Some of thy kindred proved mine enemies. 
But thou wert ever true. To thee I trust 
My Beatrice — a jewel beyond all price. 
Once I had dreamt the blessed maid was 

shrined 
Sole sovereign virginal in poet's heart. 
And wished that my fair child should take 

the veil. 
Communing close to God, 'mid holy women. 
To keep her white cloth free from life's rough 

burrs. 
But on the tossing ocean of the world. 



21 8 Dante Act IV 

I've drifted on and on through lonely years; 

Still praying for more light, still learning 
lessons, 

And dare no longer mould men's lives to suit 

My will. So, as my Bice's heart is thine, 

Bless that dear heart with all thy love, 
Uberto! ' ' 

Francesca. 

For once feuds sleep. Thy friendship, Dante, 
warms 

Like wine poured by some Ganymede for 
Gods. 
Dante. 

Jove's nectar from no valley wine is pressed 

But from the grapes that scale the highest 
crags, 

And mine I plucked while stumbling in the 
climb. 

And lifting gaze above this earthy mire. 

This royal roystering jars upon my ear. 

lYoung Delia Scala revels in his youth. 

So draw the arras shutting out the sound 

Of idle jest dropped from young scoffing lips. 
[Dante slowly^ returns to the alcove and 
closes the arras. Enter pages and Del- 
egate from Bologna. He is presented 
to Can Grande.] 



Scene II Dante 219 

Can Grande. [To Delegate.] 
And so Giovanni del VIrgllio urges 
That Dante wear Bologna's poet's crown? 
Delegate. 

'Tis this honor that we tender him. 
Can Grande. 
Where roosts our owl? Canst lure him back 
to us? 
[Addressing Jester.] 
Jester. [Pulling back the arras.] 
See poet wrapt, oblivious of the world ! 

[Dante is sitting in the casement writing. 
The Delegate and Giotto approach 
him.] 
Delegate. 
Greeting to thee, great Dante Alllghierl, 
From thy friend Giovanni del VlrgUIo. 
[Hands papers to Dante. Dante rises, 
takes them, and glances at them.'] 
Dante. [Coming down from the alcove.] 
For the kindly purport of thy coming 
I thank thee. O, Bologna's proffered crown 
Is glorious triumph for a poet's heart. 
But 'tis ungrateful Florence that should tend* 
A laurel wreath to me, her son. Again 
I thank thee, and the Bolognese who sought 
* Dante's Epistle. 



2 20 Dante Act IV 

To crown an exiled and a saddened poet. 
When newer kingdoms In my cantos live,* 
And denizens of starry spheres appear, 
Then garland me with ivy and with laurel 
That grows within the walls of well-loved 
Florence. 

Delegate. 

I fear those plants have never taken root. 
Dante, we honor thee, whom Florence scorns. 
May other cities^ tribute heal the wounds 
The ungrateful Tuscan town has given thee. 

Can Grande. 
Bethink thee, Dante, twice, ere thou refuse 
Bologna's crown. 

Dante. 

I need no crown, save one: 
Death's pall soon covers passion, pride and 

joy. 
In deep dug grave they sink to nothingness. 
So shovel on the Lethean earth — on all 
Save love, for that's entwined around our 

souls 
And wings our wistful spirits unto Heaven. 

Delegate. 
With hearty sorrow we must wend our way. 
Bearing thy message back to fair Bologna, 

* Dante's Epistle, 



Scene II Dante 221 

that our noble town had given thee birth, 
So thou hadst worn the crown she offers thee I 

Dante. 

Though Florence caused me pain, I would not 

change 
My birthright; though her stones, like heated 

ploughshares 
Burnt flesh from off my bones, I'd love her 

still. 
Nature and art have crowned her queen 

among 
The cities of our land. The day will dawn 
When all her bitterness toward me shall 

vanish: 
'Tis but a breath, blown by the people's 

mouth, 
Who suck in error with their mother's milk. 
A purer air must fill their lungs ere long; 
Great drafts of freedom will transfigure Flor- 
ence. 
Her hand outstretched, she'll clasp all Italy. 
By then my winding sheet will be white dust. 
But, if my spirit can commune with earth, 
I'll know the tardy honors tendered me. 
Go tell the kindly Bolognese my message: 

1 bid ye for all time. Farewell I 

Farewell I 



222 Dante Act IV 

Delegate. 
Farewell ! 

[Dante turns aside,'] 
Can Grande. [To Delegate.] 

Dreaming o'er what he writes, our Dante 

spurns 
The gifts Fate offers him. But let us tend 
To thee our Court's glad hospitality. 

[The Delegate is presented to Giovanna 
and is served with wine. Can Grande 
joins them as the tables are taken out and 
the ladies and courtiers begin to disperse.] 

Can Grande. [Holding out his hand to 

Dante.] 
Thou mighty man — I hate thy scathing 

words, 
But I do love thy wondrous lore. Forgive 
My hasty speech. 
Dante. 
We see with different eyes. 
My heart still beats for thee, though sharp 

my tongue; 
But in the days to come I must live hence. 
The peace of the Pineta lures me there. 
My message to the world needs calmer hours 
Than thy gay court affords, Can Grande. 



Scene II Dante 223 

GlOVANNA. 

Forget 
Thy script to-night — 
Jester. 

How can he when he lives 
For that alone? What did'st thou find, good 

Ser, 
In thy strange wanderings entering Hell? 
Dante. 
A gate upon whose portals were these 

words : * 
Through me ye pass unto the doleful city, 
Through me ye enter to eternal woe, 
Through me ye meet the people damned and 

lost. 
'Twas Justice moved my ancient fashioner, 
And Power divine created me of yore, 
Wisdom supreme and the first spirit of Love 
Before I was: naught did exist but what 
Eternal was; and I eternal stand. 
All hope abandon ye who enter here. 
[The courtiers and ladies murmur.^ 
GlOVANNA. 

Unless I hear gay strains to-night, no sleep 
Would close my eyes, since hearing these 
drear words. 

* Dlvina Comedia. 



224 Dante Act IV 

Come, friends, let's to the garden, there the 

moon 
Will send us pleasant fancies ere we part. 

\^The Jester starts singing and dancing, 
as the Court f catching the refrain, passes 
out with Can Grande and Delegate. 
A girl pelts Dante with roses and runs 
away laughing, GlOTTO and Fran- 
CESCA are urged by Dante to leave him. 
Reluctantly , they go; last of all, Uberto 
and Bice, who embraces her father.^ 

Bice. 

Uncrowned by Florence, still thou art a king, 
Thy kingdom widening over all the earth. 
I hail thee such, dear father; wear thy crown I 

l^She takes the wreath from her head and 
puts it on Dante's. The torches are 
carried out: Dante stands meditating 
in the moonlight. 1 



Curtain 



ACT IV: Scene III 

Room in the Palace of Giiido Novello di 
Polenta at Ravenna. 

Enter Giotto, Jacopo and Pietro. 

Giotto. 

Would I could veil to-day this startling truth, 
But still it stares me naked in the face. 

Jacopo. 

My father seems to fail through lack of spirit : 

This ending of Venetian embassy 

Much chafed him. Guido haply thought to 

win 
Ally thereby, and check the grasping Guelphs, 
Whose growing power he fears, though his 

their party. 
But, dreading Papal wrath, Venezia spurned 
The embassy, refused to see my father. 
This galled his haughty soul. In vain our 

host 
Flings free his favors in our midst — in vain 
Uplifts Pietro and myself. Alas! 
Ravenna's ruler fails to ease the pain 
That gnaws at Dante's heart. 
225 



226 Dante Act IV 

FlETRO. 

Alone his poem 
So wondrously completed, comforts him. 
But now he mourns the loss of thirteen can- 
tos: 
This mars the triumph of his mighty work. 
Giotto. 

'Tis strange he fails to find what his hands 
hid. 
Jacopo. 

The past years' storms have clouded memory. 
[Enter Francesca.] 
Giotto. 

Good Cesca, how doth Dante fare this morn? 
Francesca. 

He comes with Bice from the balcony. 
[Enter Dante leaning on Bice's arm.'] 
Giotto. [Greeting him.] 

Thou'rt pale, dear friend, and cold. 
Bice. 

Too long he lingered, 
Watching the upward flight of circling birds. 
Giotto. 

These early Autumn breezes blow thee harm. 
Dante. 
The fault's not in the winds — but me; 
strength fails; 



Scene III Dante 227 

This golden month has no more golden mean. 

Dawns grow to morns, and they to noons, 
and dusks 

To dawns again; while creeping centuries 

Mark slowly time upon the eternal dial, 

That lasts till sets the Sun of Righteousness. 

As sick men preach to friends In robust health 

That drafts and damps bring aches and fev^ 
ered beds. 

Knowing they venture naught but tested 
truths. 

Yet see their wise words fall on heedless ears. 

So I, who am bereft of home and honor. 

Would others warn that earthly joys are 
shadows. 

But know I'd preach In vain to listless crowds. 

Meeting with same success as sick men's ser- 
mons. 
Giotto. 

This sick man's sermon we'll most gladly 
hear; 

But tell me, Dante, how to serve thee best? 
Dante. 

Fling wide the casement: let the sunshine in 

Until the last rays fade to sombre night. 

So sets my sun; so nears my night, and then 

All ends. 



22 8 Dante Act IV 

Bice. [Giving Dante a cup.] 

Dear father, this will give thee strength. 
Dante. 

Ay, strength to meet the last of all our foes. 

He never fails his tryst to keep, well knowing 

In every struggle he still wins the day. 

But One alone has striven to victory; 

The Blessed Master conquered Death for aye. 

Love pointeth to the bleeding Christ on cross, 

The patient, waiting Christ who calls to us 

Though our weak hearts like angry crowds 
cry out: 

*0 crucify Him — crucify the Good; 

We want Barabbas; want our evil deeds! ' 

Why weeping, Cesca? Hush, our lady 
listens; 

I see her standing in the evening light — 

Saint, halo-crowned. O Beatrice, speak! 
Bice. 

Tm here, dear father. 
Francesca. 

Nay, not thee he means. 

But she — the Beatrice of his youth. 
Dante. 

Madonna, at thy feet I lay my love : 

O, glean it to thee close, most saintly one, 

Within thy bosom let it lie. 



Scene III Dante 229 

Like scented flower, a moment, next thy heart; 
Or tread it low, beneath thy heel like dust. 
'Tis all thy own to prize or scorn, sweet Bice. 
Didst thou not pray me to shun pride ? Alas ! 
This pride has proved thorn in my flesh 

through life. 
O Beatrice! silent still? Thy lips 
Are smiling. Hush ! At last she speaks. 
[Dante looks upward as at a vision.'\ 
Bice. [Weeping.] 

father, father! 

Dante. [Half -rising from his chair.] 
My cantos! Madonna — 

1 follow thee. 

[Rises. Bice tries to restrain him.] 
Giotto. 

He sees a vision : stay ! 
[Holds Bice back. Dante walks tozvard 
the wall.] 
Dante. [Fery slowly.] 

Behind the panel — yea, thou seest all. 

[He reaches the wall and touches a panel, 
which opens.] 
Dante. 

O, how thy love protects me, Beatrice ! 
[He takes the lost manuscript from the 
panel.] 



230 Dante Act IV 



Giotto. 

The missing cantos ! 
Bice. 

A miracle — yea, 
A miracle from Heaven ! 
Dante. [Turning and gazing upward.} 
Madonna, 
Thou givest me my very light of life! 

[Pause.'] 
Thou fadest from my vision ! Beatrice ! 
[Jacopo and PiETRO assist Dante to a 
chair,'] 
Bice. 

Father, rest, 
Dante. 

Gone — the angels have wafted her 
To Heaven again. 
Bice. 

Praise God, O Father, that He hath vouch- 
safed 
This grace to thee. O, let my arms bind thee 
To earth. 
Dante. 

Thou holdest but the fragile shell 
Of my sad soul. 

[Touching the manuscript.] 

This casing of my thoughts 



Scene III Dante 



231 



Reveals an inner light; take it, my children; 

Bequeath it to the world when I am gone. 
[Enter GuiDO Novello and a priest.^ 
GuiDO. 

We come to ask how now our Dante fares. 
Dante. 

He fares now well, since loosed the silver 
cords, 

And broken golden bowl. Now siu 11 the 
dust 

Return to dust, the spirit to our God. 
GuiDO. 

Our days are in His hands; we'll pray He 
spare 

Thy life to us for still some length of years. 

Dante, I bring thee news. 
Dante. 

I, too, have news. 
GuiDO.. 

An embassy from Rome awaiteth thee. 
Dante. 

An embassy from Heaven awaits my soul. 

Through all my life I ever humbly strove 

To mingle God with daily acts. Why shrink 

The last act of my life to share with God? 

Admit my friends. 



232 Dante Act IV 

GuiDO. [Aside to Pietro.] 

This whispering of Rome 
Low In Ravenna's ears, means mischief, 
Pietro. 
[Enter Cardinal, attendants and Uberto. 
Dante rises to meet them.] 
Cardinal. 

Messer Dante, the holy Church salutes thee. 
Dante. 
And I, as when at Rome, salute the Church. 
[Uberto, having greeted Francesca and 
Bice, draws near to Dante.] 
Uberto. [Aside to Dante.] 

I hear this envoy from the Pope means 111. 
Dante. 

E'en a sick Hon, when roused, can match a 
fox. 
[The Cardinal, having greeted Giotto, 
joins Dante.] 
Cardinal. 

I fear thy labors have outstripped thy 

strength. 
We hear thy poem on Heaven and Hell is 

finished. 
May the Saints grant it be not impious. 
Dante. 

'TIs not the Saints, but men may deem It so. 



Scene III DAnte 233 

GUIDO. 

Most wondrous are the pictures Dante draws ; 
He mingles poetry, philosophy, 
Religious thoughts and history in one theme. 
I feel most honored here to house such guest. 

Giotto. 

Yea, this Court harbors now, Lord Cardinal, 

Italla's most Illustrious man. 
Cardinal. 

God grant 

His Holiness concedes this, too, good Giotto. 

Dante. 
The triple crown oft menaces the laurel. 

Cardinal. 

But not when grown on consecrated ground ! 
The Holy Father sanctions art and learning; 
The city swears by her proud self these days. 
We boast the gayest singers, lightest dancers 
In Rome. Our poets quaff the sparkling 

wine, 
On every pinnacle of mirth. Without 
Some jocund rhymes salute the ears, and, 

mingling 
With bells of mules and cries of trafficking. 
And strangers swarming, add their welcome 

coin. 



234 Dante Act IF 

Dante. 

Ay, welcome to the Church. I recollect 
The year Pope Boniface most wisely ordered 
The Jubilee; how pilgrims flocked to Rome, 
And day and night they raked gold treasures 

in; 
These eyes have seen the priests with rakes in 

hand; 
And hundreds slept In streets,, content to lie 
Within your walls. And now, Lord Car- 
dinal, 
Prithee, proceed — ^unfold thy mission here. 

Cardinal. 

I come because His Holiness, the Pope 

Desires to satisfy himself thy work 

Is not Inimical to all the teachings 

Of Mother Church. I prithee, Messer 

Dante, 
Commit this manuscript unto my care, 
So, by perusal, I can straight refute 
The slanders on It spreading through our 
land. 

Dante. 

Truth needs no refutation. 

[Touches the manuscript.] 
This Is truth. 



Scene III Dante 235 

Cardinal. [Leaning over and placing his 
hand on the manuscript.'] 
Then let us test it, Messer Allighieri. 
Dante. [Powerfully.] 
Hold! 
[Pause.] 

Rome's greedy hand may rake In gold, 
But not this treasure of my soul. Beware ! 
Cardinal. 

Thy blasphemies may damn thy poem and 
soul. 
Dante. 

When palaces of Popes lie low In ruin 
When world-famed kings are dust, and all 

this power 
A dream of by-gone days, this monument 
Shall firmly stand as now on rock of truth. 
Cardinal. 

Beware ! Anathema may be Its fate. 
[Bice starts and cries out.] 
Dante.. 

Before the frightened eyes of slaves and chil- 
dren 
Shake out thy spectre of anathema, 
And flay them with the iron rod of dogma. 
But free men need not cower before the 
Church. 



23 6 Dante Act IV 

They reverence piety in priest or layman. 
But Catholics should bend to Christ 'fore 
Rome. 
Cardinal. 

The fagots in the market place hiss hot 
For thee and thy pernicious work, and hell 
Awaits thee joyfully, thou most accurst — 
Dante. 

At last thy mask is off ! 
Cardinal. 

Thou heretic! 
From Rome the Holy Father'll deal with 
thee. 
[Exit with attendants.'] 
Dante. [As Cardinal leaves.] 

The Holy Father from Heaven will deal with 

thee. 
O Rome, is this thy mission, to create 
St. Peter's chair for knaves to desecrate? 
Where all the saints once crowned upon that 

seat? 
Dead — martyred by these vicious men who 

wrest 
The papal power from every hand that's 

clean. 
How long, how long, Jerusalem, shall sin 
Usurp thy purity? O Italy, 



Scene III Dante 237 

Awake to brighter aims of broader purpose. 
Then let thy memVy note my latest breath 
Declares death hath no sting, no torment hell 
Keener than earth's Injustice, since to live 
Misunderstood, condemned by those we love, 
Is death and hell together — Give me air ! 

[Sinks hack in chair,] 
How dark it grows. 
Bice. 

O God, have mercy on him I 
Dante. [Rousing himself.] 

Why fear the shears that snip life's snarled 

thread 
When It but signifies the end of pain? 
In gentle guise, come to me. Death, at last; 
Shut out from strained lids the world's harsh 

views ; 
Seal up the jarred ear from earth's rude 

sounds ; 
Stay grief's grim accents on the trembling 

Ups; 
Steal pain from touch ; take tired exile home ; 
O thou great herald of eternal rest! 
GuiDO. 

His end is near. 
Giotto. 

The century's light burns low. 



238 Dante Act IV 

Dante. [Gazing upward.] 

Come closer, shades. What, do ye fly my 

touch ? 
Hath woe not purified my flesh enow? 
Must my poor soul, still sighing, sit within 
The adamantine prison of the flesh? 
Hath It not even reached an outer door 
Where through some blessed chink It spies 

beyond 
Its kin at rest, care-free, in sweet Elysium? 
Fed on the tree of life In Paradise, 
When perfect grown, must these new spirits 

swing 
The incense of their love and praise alone 
In Heaven's domes? Shall not some holy 

breath 
Be wafted down from them to earth again. 
Sweetening our lives and cleansing us from 

sin. 
And so let those above by mystic tie 
Be linked to what they were in living men. 
[Pause.] 
Dante. [Resuming.] 
O Beatrice, such pure soul as thine 
Needs lower stoop than most, to reach us 

here. 
Madonna, at thy feet I lay my love; 



Scene III Dante 239 

O, lift it to thy bosom, let it lie, 

Like scented blossom, lightly, near thy heart. 

Still silent, blessed one? Thine eyes speak 

only; 
Thou standest near the Church enthroned in 

glory. 
Beside the Rose of Heaven, the Virgin 

Mother, 
Who shineth, clothed in light eternally. 
Even thou — even thou — art Beatrice ! 
Stretch out thy holy hands ; help me to thee ! 

[Rising.-] 
O let my faltering tongue find power 
So that a spark of all thy glory trail 
Resplendent through all centuries to come. 
Lit by the love that moves the sun and stars. 
That gives me God and Florence — Bea- 
trice — • 
iHeJies,-] 



Curtain 



APPENDIX 

'* Two women's angry looks 
First lit this coal of enmity betwixt 
Ye twain. When Vieri at the feast, in jest, 
Begged that some friendly soul should sit be- 
tween 

Thy lady and her neighbor at the board " 

[Act /.] 

At a feast, Vieri del CerchI, observing two 
ladies exchange unfriendly looks, laughingly 
said, " As these two dames do not agree. It will 
be best to put some friendly soul between 
them." Dona Donati instantly sprang up, pale 
with rage, and was leaving the table, when 
Vieri rose, begged her pardon, and prayed she 
would be seated, laying his hand upon her sleeve 
as he spoke. But the angry dame shook It off, 
proclaiming loudly that It had all been a planned 
insult. 

Vieri, furious, replied hotly; upon which 
Donati drew his sword, vowing his wife was 
Insulted. Blows followed, and the feast ended 
in a general fray. 

241 



242 Appendix 



"Nay, truths, proud painter; didst not make 
thee great 
With one round O?'' 

[Act IF: Scene //.] 

Giotto di Bondone (i 276-1336), founder of 
modern Italian art, was a shepherd boy, but 
made rapid progress under his master, Cima- 
bue. His fame soon spread, and Pope Bene- 
dict sent one of his courtiers into Tuscany to 
see what sort of a man he was and what his 
works were like, for the Pope was planning to 
have some paintings made in St. Peter's. This 
courtier, on his way to see Giotto and to find 
out what other masters of painting and mosaic 
there were in Florence, spoke with many mas- 
ters in Sienna, and then, having received some 
drawings from them, he came to Florence. And 
one morning going into the workshop of Giotto, 
who was at his labors, he showed him the mind 
of the Pope, and at last asked him to give him 
a little drawing to send to his Holiness. Giotto, 
who was a man of courteous manners, Immedi- 
ately took a sheet of paper, and with a pen 
dipped In red, fixing his arm firmly against his 
side to make a compass of It, with a turn of 
his hand he made a circle so perfect that it was 
a marvel to see it. Having done it, he turned 



Appendix 243 



smiling to the courtier and said, " Here Is the 
drawing.'' But he, thinking he was being 
laughed at, asked, **Am I to have no other 
drawing than this?'' "This is enough and too 
much," replied Giotto; "send it with the others 
and see if It will be understood." The mes- 
senger, seeing that he could get nothing else, 
departed Ill-pleased, not doubting that he had 
been made a fool of. However, sending the 
other drawings to the Pope with the names of 
those who had made them, he sent also Giotto's, 
relating how he had made the circle without 
moving his arm and without compasses, which, 
when the Pope and many of his courtiers under- 
stood, they saw that Giotto must surpass greatly 
all the other painters of his time. 

[Fasari^s Lives,'] 

" When the Vale was sending to the Seven Hills 
Fresh fuel from the Forest to the Altar." 

[Act IF: Scene //.] 

The Cerchi party was called the Forest party 
— " Parte Selvagia " — as they came from the 
woods of the valley of the Seine and district of 
Acone. Later they assumed the name of 
Blanchl, and Donatl's followers were then called 
Nleri. 



244 Appendix 



*' Shall I, then, feed on Dante's pile of bones?" 

[Act IF: Scene //.] 

While Dante was at the Court of Can 
Grande, a boy who was concealed under the 
table, gathering the bones which, according to 
the custom of the time, were thrown under the 
table, placed them all together at the feet of 
the poet. On rising from the table the pile 
was discovered. The company seemed much 
amused, and Can Grande remarked that Dante 
must be a great eater of meat, to which he 
quickly retorted, alluding to the name of Cane, 
'* Sir, you would not see so many bones even if 
I were a dog (un cane)^ 

[Botta's Dante.'] 



